The Walking Z: A Survivor's Story
by Captainawsome42
Summary: In the years 2081, on October 18th, Central City was destroyed with a 100% fatality rate. The military was sent to investigate the situation. There were no known survivors. Now, it is up to a few demi-Saiyans to race against both time and the odds to somehow bring the world back to what it once was. This story isn't dead. Expect update soon and I will explain why I disappeared.
1. Chapter 1

I know that I haven't updated the greatest underdog duty in a while but I have major writers' block but I will start updating that either every Friday or every other Friday. And yes there will be a couple instances of seeing the walking dead cast. I might have Daryl join them because I love him.

So there are a few difference I that I will not be explaining in the story. First off Videl got to the robbery before Gohan on the first day so he did not go Super Saiyan so Videl is not suspicious about him but still thinks he's Saiyaman. Second Goku was brought back after the Cell Games so he is alive and well. The third thing is that 17 is alive.

**And hello, everyone! This is RaiynetheHedgehog here, and I'm beta-ing this story for Captain now! :D and that's all I really wanted to say…in these little A/Ns, my speaking will be in bold, while Cap's will be in normal format, OK? So that there's no confusion :D**

I do not own Dragon ball Z or the walking dead but I do own the unique story line and characters I might or might not add.

* * *

In a familiar scene, we see Earth's strongest sleeping calmly in his bed, seeming to be having peaceful dreams at the moment. Gohan's mouth was turned upwards at the corners in a faint smile, a few stray rays of sunlight falling on his face through the window. It was an extremely peaceful morning as the birds gently chirped, the sun softly coming up over the clouds. It seemed that nothing could disturb the tranquility—

Until a certain little ball of energy decided to make his presence known in the teenager's room.

"Gohan, Gohan, wake up, wake up!" yelled a rambunctious eight-year-old, clad in an orange _gi_, jumping up and down on his big brother's stomach.

Gohan groaned lightly, wanting nothing more but to stay asleep. However, his little brother was relentless, continuing to jump on his bed, and after a few more minutes of this along with Goten's continuous chanting for him to get out of bed, Gohan yielded. "Ugh, get off me, squirt; I'm up," the older brother said while slapping the younger off him. Grinning at the feat he'd accomplished, Goten got off of the bed, jumping down to the floor. Before he dashed off to the kitchen, he turned around, remembering something he had to tell Gohan. The eldest demi-Saiyan was running a hand through his spiky black hair, and then running it down his face in an attempt to wake up, before he looked back up at his little brother, his slightly bleary black eyes meeting Goten's already energetic ones.

"Mom says that if you're late to school again you won't get dinner," Goten informed the teenager. "Also, hurry up! Mom says we can't eat until you get down, and I'm _starving_!" With that last sentence, not checking to see if his brother was following him, Goten dashed back to the kitchen as fast as he could, Gohan slowly getting out of bed. He stretched his arms lightly as he yawned, getting rid of the slight soreness in his muscles, as he followed his little brother to the kitchen.

Upon reaching the kitchen, he saw that his whole family was already downstairs, three places at the table with food piled extremely high on plates. Goku was sitting at one of the places as Goten hopped into his seat the moment that Gohan arrived. Seeing that his eldest son was there, Goku grinned at the boy.

"Ooh good, you're here!" Goku said eagerly. "Now we can—" However, before he could continue his sentence, the familiar black frying pan suddenly hit him on the back of the head, making a resounding _CLANG!_ as it hit his skull. "OW!" exclaimed the father, now rubbing his head at the tender spot, wincing slightly as he looked at his wife's annoyed dark brown eyes. "What was _that_ for, Chi-Chi?"

"Now, Goku," Chi-Chi reprimanded, "you know better than to start eating before I get my food. Now that I'm done, Gohan, Goten, you can eat, sweethearts. Your father will eat what is left," she said, putting away the deadly frying pan that struck fear into the hearts of all the men in her household. Not wasting any time, the moment that their mother gave them the OK to eat, Gohan and Goten dug into the piles of food in front of them. Goku watched his sons with a face of pure torture, seeming agonized as he watched them devour the food that he so desperately wanted to eat as well. His wife understood that he regretted what he had done, though, and took pity on him. With a gentle kiss on the cheek, she gave him permission to start eating, too—a statement which instantly brightened her husband as he eagerly dug into the food as well.

"Gohan," Goten piped up as he remembered something, "your friend Videl called yesterday. She seemed pretty upset about something." As she heard this, Chi-Chi turned to look at the young boy, an indiscernible expression on her face.

"Gohan," she addressed her eldest son, looking at him seriously, "you _better_ start giving me grandchildren. I'm not getting any younger, you know." At his mother's words, Gohan began to blush a deep red, wishing that he could simply disappear at the moment, too shocked at the insinuation to say anything in reply. Chi-Chi didn't notice his discomfort, however, and continued speaking, now turning towards her younger boy. "Also, Goten, Trunks is coming over today. Something came up over there at Capsule Corp. so Bulma is busy, and god _forbid_ her husband do anything besides train." Her voice was dripping with disdain at the last part, but Goten didn't pay attention to this started to jump with joy, glad that he'd be able to see his best friend. He ran over to his room so he could get some toys that they could play with.

"Gohan, what's wrong?" Goku asked as he saw his son's reaction to what Chi-Chi had said, hoping that his admittedly nosy wife wasn't listening into their quiet conversation. "Who is this Videl girl and why is she mad at you?"

"She's a friend from school," Gohan replied, the faintest traces of red still on his pale cheeks. "I promised I would hang out with her, Erasa, and Sharpener after school yesterday, but Vegeta came to me after school, so I went with him." Gohan severely hoped that his father wouldn't pry his conversation with Vegeta, not wanting to explain the details.

"Vegeta wanted to talk to you?" Goku repeated, a puzzled look on his face.

Right as he spoke, the man mentioned before suddenly barged in through the door, not even bothering with knocking on the door (something which caused Chi-Chi to mutter about how extremely rude the prince was, glad that she hadn't locked the door, an action which would've probably prompted Vegeta to simply break down the door). A ten-year-old in a green _gi_ followed behind him. The moment the young boy entered, his blue eyes lit up as he ran up to Gohan and promptly jumped into his chest, accidentally knocking the teenager down with the force of his impact.

"GOHAN!" the little lavender-haired boy exclaimed eagerly, a grin on the features that were an exact copy of the stoic Saiyan prince's.

"Yes, Trunks?" Gohan replied, seeing that the kid had something he wanted to tell him. As he spoke, he got the little prince off of his chest, placing him back on the floor as he stood up as well, before looking at the boy expectantly. Meanwhile, Goku grinned and went up to talk to Vegeta, but the taciturn Saiyan seemed to not want to make small talk with Goku, only interested in sparring with him.

"I'm going to sleep over tonight! Now, you, Goten, and I can play _all night_!" Trunks told him enthusiastically, before running off to find his best friend. Gohan, remembering what happened the last time the two little hell-raisers "played"together, shuddered slightly, before walking towards the door, grabbing the capsule that held his lunch.

"Brat, don't forget what I told you," Vegeta said gruffly. To show that he'd heard him, Gohan nodded in reply, which seemed enough for Vegeta as he exited the house along with Goku. Moments later, Gohan felt the two rivals' energies flying away towards the empty desert.

Before he, too, left the house, he quickly turned around as he hollered goodbye to his younger brother, grinning when Goten replied with his own yell. Then, the teenager kissed his mother gently on the cheek in farewell, Chi-Chi wishing her son a good day at school, before he got out of his house and took to the skies.

* * *

Meanwhile, a girl with penetrating sapphire blue eyes walked towards her own kitchen. Those blue eyes were now locked in a steely glare, seeming almost like chips of ice with the intensity of the glower on her features—it was obvious that she was _not_ in a good mood. Without making any eye-contact with anyone in the kitchen, she sat down and began to eat her breakfast.

"Honey, what's wrong?" the world's "strongest" man asked. "Is it a boy, because you know that all they want is to get into your pants?" However, Videl didn't make any reply to what her father said, simply eating her breakfast, a frown still on her features.

"Miss Satan, Miss Pen is here to bring you to school," said one of the numerous butlers in the large mansion. Videl, brightening a little about the idea of school (not school _itself_, mind you. Just seeing her friends), rushed out to meet Erasa. Her best friend stood there, waiting patiently for the black-haired girl to appear.

When Videl got outside, Erasa grinned brightly, and the two girls locked into a quick embrace. When Videl pulled away, the blonde was easily able to see the fire that was in her eyes with her annoyance at a certain someone.

"Hey, Erasa, let's go. I wanna show Son his place," Videl muttered, punching the palm of her hand to emphasize what she meant, imagining that her palm was that irritable boy's face.

"Videl, I'm sure he had a perfectly good reason for not being there. Plus, if you beat him up…well, I won't have anyone cute to look at during class," Erasa said with a slight giggle while pulling out her phone to text someone.

"Anyways…what could have been more important than our plans?" Videl suddenly wondered. Erasa, either not hearing the question or not knowing the answer, kept texting. At this action, Videl felt annoyance prick at her, and took the cell phone from her best friend. This made the blonde stare at her now empty hands in shock for a few moments before, she fixed a glare on the black-haired girl. Running off with her prize, Videl hoped that Erasa could keep up with her until they arrived at school. Slowly pulling ahead, Videl decided to stop and wait for Erasa to catch up to her.

Once they reached the school, a familiar boy instantly put his arm around Videl, his long blond hair reaching down to her shoulder. Too aghast to say anything, Videl simply glared at the offender in shock while he spoke.

"Hey, babe," Sharpener said in her ear, smirking. "Ready for our date tonight?"

A fierce punch in the gut from Videl was the only answer he got, and she simply walked to class without another word, leaving the boy gasping for air in the hallways behind them, not feeling any remorse about her actions. This was usual for Erasa, and she didn't say anything as Sharpener wheezed slightly for air as he followed them, mentally noting that he was lucky that Videl hadn't kneed him in the crotch this time (oh, yes. She had kneed _quite_ a few boys in the nuts for making comments about her).

"Hey, Videl…where do you think Gohan is? He might be late again," Erasa commented as they entered the classroom together, remembering what will happen if Gohan was late again.

"Why do you care if Brains isn't here, its not like he helped with anything to start with," Sharpener said, having recovered from Videl's fierce blow, having reached his seat already as he leaned back in it. A few seconds after he'd spoken, the demi-Saiyan in question ran into the room and sat down in his customary spot next to Erasa. As he sat down, he felt Videl suddenly punch him in the back of the head. The moment that she did so, however, he didn't react, but she brought back her now slightly throbbing hand from pain. _Damn,whatisthiskid_ made _of?_ she couldn't help but wonder speculatively, looking at her slightly red hand.

"Sorry I wasn't there…it was a family emergency," Gohan lied. Well, it wasn't a _lie_, but he didn't want to explain the real story.

"Wow, Brains, what a lame excuse," Sharpener scoffed disbelievingly. "If you want to blow us off, well then, good riddance." Erasa then punched Sharpener's muscular arm in slight reprimand for being mean to Gohan, causing Sharpener to instantly defend himself with words while the two got into a little argument.

However, Videl was not convinced by Gohan's answer, either, and decided to get more information. "Well if you had an emergency care to explain what the emergency was?" she demanded of him.

Gohan then blushed lightly, and decided not to answer, hoping that she'd simply drop the subject. He then looked towards the teacher as the elderly man began explaining (more like _droningonabout_) pre-calculus to the group of mostly unobservant teenagers (most of which were either chatting or texting on their phones).

Noticing Gohan's blush, however, Videl knew that there was something fishy going on. She then made a mental note to herself to bring up the topic at an opportune time, when she was able to get answers from him. He was _not_ getting off the hook _that_ easily.

* * *

"Class, today we are starting a new unit in gym," the deep voice of the extremely buff, no-nonsense gym teacher said. "We are starting a Martial Arts unit. As a special treat, we have the husband of the head of Capsule Corp., Mister Briefs." And, with that, the gym teacher simply walked away, wanting to hand over the lazy kids to the other man already. Upon hearing this, Gohan couldn't help but burst out laughing, knowing _exactly_ what was about to happen.

"Brat, if you don't stop that racket _thisinstant_, I will blast you off this mudball with no remorse, and then say that I have no idea of your whereabouts when everyone else asks for you," the Saiyan prince growled out, walking towards the class in his sleeveless blue spandex suit, not donning his Saiyan armor that day, as he glared at the eldest half-Saiyan. Videl heard this and followed the man's line of sight, seeing that he was glaring at Gohan. Could Gohan _possibly_ be the person that this slightly intimidating man had been talking to?

"Maggots, I am Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans. However, for argument's sake, I will allow you to call me Mister Briefs." Once again, he fixed his steely onyx glare upon Gohan, his arms crossed against his broad, muscular chest, the customary position for him. "Boy, why the hell are you not up here, too? You remember our deal," Vegeta informed him, smirking at the look of disappointment that came over the teenager's dace at what he said. Feeling defeated, Gohan walked up to Vegeta and stood next to him.

"Now…which of you maggots can fight?" Vegeta asked the class, his glare roving over them, also slightly tinged with curiosity, wondering how many of these lazy teenagers actually practiced martial arts.

About half of the class raised their hands.

"Now, how many of you can beat that boy over there?" As he spoke, he pointed to Gohan, who seemed like he wished that he would be able to somehow melt into the floor.

Everyone's hands stood raised.

Vegeta couldn't help the light smirk that graced his features at this, knowing that the teenagers obviously hadn't seen _any_ of the boy's true power. "All right, then. Anyone that can beat him in a fight will get an automatic 'A', and everyone behind that person will get an 'A' as well, and you'll never have to attend a gym class for the rest of the year. Now, get in line and let's start."

Everyone in class quickly ran into line, none of them more eager than Sharpener, who managed to get first place in line. _Finally! If I beat Brains, Videl will realize how amazing I am and go out with me!_ Sharpener thought smugly as he went into the ring.

"Begin," Vegeta instructed, stepping back to watch how the fight unfolded. Gohan instinctually went on the defensive, waiting for Sharpener to make the first move. Smirking slightly, the blonde boy suddenly rushed at him, hoping to surprise the black-haired boy and sucker punch him, believing that he had this fight in the bag.

So he wasn't expecting it when Gohan suddenly grabbed his fist mid-punch and easily flung him out of the ring like he was nothing more than a ragdoll, without even seeming to use any physical exertion.

The first emotion to register in all of the students was shock. Then, all of the kids in line suddenly pushed Videl to the front, because Videl was the only one that could manage to beat Sharpener without getting extremely tired. Videl stepped up, getting slightly excited at the prospect of a challenge (even though she was positive that Gohan somehow had gotten very lucky). Vegeta, taking note of her confidence, couldn't resist a snicker. The female had no idea what she was truly up against.

"Hey buster, who're you laughing at?" a student asked, looking up at their new gym teacher. "That's Mister Satan's daughter; she's the second strongest person in the world!"

Now, Vegeta honestly couldn't stop himself from actually bursting out in mocking laughter as the name rung a bell, shaking his head as he smirked. Gohan noticed Vegeta's slight outburst and wondered what happened to cause the Saiyan prince to be laughing the way he was. Sure, Mr. Satan was a joke, but he was casting a funny look between him and Videl…

"Vegeta, what's so funny?" Gohan inquired

"You sure know how to pick mates, kid," Vegeta managed to say, attempting to keep a straight face. However, he couldn't stop the snickers that continued to come from his throat, which were only encouraged at the light crimson blush that made its way to Gohan's cheeks. Hearing this near-stranger talking about her in such a way, however, made Videl absolutely furious, and she wouldn't keep her mouth shut as she spoke up.

"Hey, _Princey_, nobody gets to talk to _me_ like that," Videl informed him angrily, glaring daggers at Vegeta. Her glare, which often struck fear into the hearts of most of the male gender, didn't faze this man at all. The Saiyan did a complete 180, turning towards the girl, the slight park of amusement that had been in his onyx eyes gone now, replaced with a slowly growing rage, going from a slightly sarcastic mood to "pissed-off" in a matter of a few seconds.

"_Nobody_ gets to call me 'princey' and live," he snarled out, obsidian eyes cold and deadly, the eyes of a killer. _Nobody_ had blatantly insulted him like that, using his title in such a degrading manner, since his time in Frieza's army. Sure, Bulma may have used it a few times, but that was different. This inferior human girl, who knew absolutely _nothing_ about him and dared to have the audacity to talk back to him, had just made a wrong move. His lips were drawn back in a threatening snarl, revealing his slightly overdeveloped canines in the process. "You just got yourself a death sentence, you little brat."

For a moment, Videl was actually afraid of this man—he seemed like he would actually go _through_ with what he said. She'd never seen such murderous hate in someone's eyes, and his black eyes were heartless, remorseless, the eyes of a murderer. There was something else behind all of that, but she was unable to decipher exactly what it was. All she knew was that the deadly calmness with which he spoke, the venom dripping from his voice, made a shiver of fear travel down her spine, the intensity with which he was glaring at her actually making her nervous.

However, before Vegeta could do anything, Gohan quickly rushed up to the man, undaunted by the obvious intimidation and pure anger that he was showing, and whispered something into his ear. What he said, Videl would never know; however, what he said seemed to be the right thing. After Vegeta quickly snarled at Gohan in his anger and annoyance, he closed his eyes for a moment, before letting out a deep breath.

"Maggots, run two miles and do 100 pushups after each mile…_except_ these two brats," he told everyone, acting as if his sudden episode hadn't happened. Everyone groaned at that but started anyway—those few seconds where he seemed like he would truly be able to kill them all and sleep like a baby that night had shaken them al up. Then, he addressed Videl, once all the students began to run/jog. "Girl, come here, this instant."

Not taking the fact that she was being ordered around lightly, Videl finished walking up to the two males, all the while glaring at them fiercely with her blue eyes.

"Boy, you have exactly _five seconds_ to give me _one good reason_ why I shouldn't destroy this insolent brat _this instant_," Vegeta growled out murderously, fixing his piercing glare on Videl once more, slowly raising his energy the slightest bit in his anger.

For a moment, Gohan was drawing an alarming blank. Then, he got it, and he couldn't help the smirk slowly making its way across his face. "I'll tell Bulma, and then you'll have to eat her food for a _year_."

Vegeta's eyes widened for a moment, before he growled at Gohan, knowing that the brat had one-upped him. "Boy," he began gruffly, glaring daggers at his rival's firstborn son, "run 50 miles and do 1000 vertical pushups after each mile. And _you_, girl, run 2 miles and do 50 vertical pushups after each lap. Now, go before I blow you both up and act like it was an accident." With that done, Vegeta began to meditate while the class got their exercise.

Videl and Gohan both ran off to try to catch up to everyone else—everyone had generally completed one lap. After about two minutes of running, Gohan had somehow finished his first mile and began his pushups. Videl looked at him in shock, not understanding how he could have just finished a mile so quickly…but he had passed her quite a few times. How could someone possibly do that and not look like they'd broken a sweat, doing 1000 pushups at an almost untrackable speed and not seeming to be tired? She decided that she needed to interrogate him during lunch—she _had_ to know what was so different about that kid. Once Videl finished her first mile, Gohan was on his fifth, currently doing the 1000 pushups.

"Gohan. Me. You. Lunch. Be there, or your _grandchildren_ will feel it," Videl whispered in Gohan's ear after finishing her pushups, beginning her second mile. Not having expected that, Gohan suddenly lost the rhythm which he had been doing his pushups at, and promptly fell on his face.

* * *

Gohan quickly rushed from the locker room, hoping to avoid Videl's wrath. Videl, however, was no idiot. Guessing that this would happen, she waited for him outside the room and didn't bother changing—they both had study hall next, after all, and it wasn't as if she'd have as much time as she wanted to change then.

"Hey, Gohan," Videl yelled cheerfully, a light smirk on her features.

Gohan, upon hearing how happy she was, began to get slightly nervous about what might possibly happen next. He had no idea what would happen—he'd learned long ago that the female gender was just about insane and completely unfathomable to him. He decided not to take any chances, and was polite and level-headed, pretending that he was not unfazed by her appearance there. "Hey, Videl. I was just heading to lunch…care to join me?"

Videl contemplated his statement for a moment (sure, she remembered she'd asked him before. But she now was reconsidering her genius plan; she always double-checked her plans), before she decided that it would help her with her revenge.

"Sure thing; let's go," Videl agreed, before she hooped her right arm through his left one. This action caused Gohan to suddenly blush, not understanding what he was doing, but he knew that he didn't want to ask her anything, didn't want to ignite the wrath that seemed to have left her for the time being.

As the two walked into the lunch room, arms linked, everyone stared at them, wide-eyed, not trying to hide their shock at the scene before him. Some _nerd_ had managed to hook up with _the_ Videl Satan—it was something that none of them had believed would be possible. Of course, Sharpener saw this as well, and instantly began to think of a plan to get his Videl to somehow fall for him instead of some nerdy kid.

"Erm… Videl where do you wanna sit?" Gohan asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable at everyone staring at them and also with the very odd way she was acting. While they walked, Videl had rested her head on top of his shoulder, inwardly smirking at how well her plan was working. Gohan slowly turned deeper shades of red after each passing second. She looked up at him, and sent him a coy wink, which only served to frighten Gohan even more as she leaned up and placed her lips near his cheek.

"On your lap, of course," Videl whispered in his ear, her warm breath tickling his black hair. Getting the message that she wanted to be somewhere alone (_why_ did she have to go to such an absurd length as saying that she wanted to sit in his _lap_, though? The female species was an enigma, honestly), Gohan quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the crowd of students in the cafeteria and towards the roof.

Once they reached the roof, Gohan sat down, trying to avoid Videl's gaze as he unlinked their arms without meeting resistance, and pulled out his food capsule. When he opened it, a small full table almost overflowing with food appeared after the smoke disappeared. Upon seeing his lunch, Videl suddenly realized that she didn't have any lunch, and decided to use this for her advantage.

"Gohan…can I please have some?" Videl asked, batting her eyelashes lightly at him.

Gohan nearly choked on his food. _Does she not realize what she's doing to me? Is she sick or something? _Gohan wondered idly. _Oh, Dende, if Vegeta saw this, I'd never be able to live it down…_

"Uh…sure thing, Videl." He then began to inspect her closely, now seriously debating if she was all right or not. Maybe she was coming down with something? He wasn't sure, but he wanted to know, because she was acting very odd. And…she was doing something else. She was…leaning _closer_ to him?

"Videl, are you feeling alright? You seem to be acting kinda…strange," Gohan observed quietly, swallowing a bit when he realized that _yes_, Videl was actually moving closer to him, slowly but surely coming closer. His eyes suddenly began to take in her face, seeming to notice things that he'd never noticed about her before: how her silky black hair tied into pigtails gracefully managed to frame the petite features on her face, the way that a few strands of her black hair managed to stray into her eyes, the way her cheeks seemed to be naturally pink with the slightest rosy blush on her pale skin, her tiny nose, her surprisingly full and luscious and perfectly-shaped pink lips, her long black lashes and her amazing sapphire blue eyes that sparkles like gems, ignited with the fire deep within them, the spark of life and determination deep within those seemingly endless depths…he had no idea where this was coming from, but it all seemed to fit her perfectly, and he was nearly mesmerized by her at the moment.

Unbeknownst to him, Videl, too, was looking at Gohan as if she was suddenly seeing him for the first time. She was suddenly noticing that he was…well, that Erasa was right; he was rather handsome. She'd never exactly noticed how his thick his black hair was, never exactly noticed that little forelock of hair falling over his forehead lightly, framing his face slightly, and unconsciously, her fingers reached out to run through a few of those spiky strands. He made no move to stop her, simply looking back at her, trying to understand what she was doing. She continued analyzing his features: the pale complexion of his skin; the surprisingly graceful features of his face that were still masculine, almost boyish still in their likeness; his strong jaw, his prominent cheekbones; his own surprisingly full lips; and his own amazing, warm onyx eyes, their dark depths holding compassion and mystery behind them. There were other emotions swirling within his dark eyes, emotions she couldn't decipher.

"I'm fine," Videl answered, though her voice was lightly breathless. She had trouble convincing herself of that fact as she continued to get lost in the amazing depths of his own warm dark eyes. _Remember the plan, girl, remember the plan,_ she repeatedly told herself. However, she was suddenly having a very hard time of doing so, still slightly entranced by his eyes, trying to understand the emotions that were swimming deep within their currents. What had originally seemed a genius plan had suddenly backfired, and she couldn't find any way out of it.

"Are you sure?" Gohan repeated, his voice quiet, unconsciously getting the slightest bit closer to her, leaning towards her without his full noticing of it. He, too, was entranced by her, and he didn't realize that the space between them was growing smaller and smaller. He hesitantly reached out a slightly calloused thumb to brush away a few stray strands of hair from her bangs to the side of her face so that her beautiful blue eyes could be completely shown.

"Yeah…why do you ask?" she then asked him, her voice barely above a murmur, continuing to slowly lean towards him. Their eyes were slowly beginning to close against their will, as the space between them grew smaller and smaller with every passing second, unconsciously. Their faces were eventually so close that they were only a hairs-breadth apart, so that they could gently feel each other's breathing on the other's faces, a few mere centimeters away from each other. Neither of them would have to move very much to close the gap between them, and slowly, so agonizingly slowly, but ever-so-surely, they were leaning closer…and closer…

* * *

Vegeta: You dare make the Mighty Prince of All Saiyans be a teacher I'll kill you.

Cap42: Sheesh maybe I should kill you off.

Bulma: Hey that's my husband mister.

Cap42: There is no winning with each other.

Next time on The Walking Z a survivor's story: Did Gohan and Videl kiss? What did Vegeta tell Gohan? Find out one of these and get more questions next time.

**And it's RaiynetheHedgehog here, signing out as well! I hope you guys liked the chapter, and please review for the awesome Captain! :D**


	2. A Random Raiyne appears

To Choas267: It will not get to dark I promise. There will be angst and horror at part but I will keep a lot of light happy moments too because I also am one that does not like reading something to dark.

Also if anyone reads my other story I will start to update it every Monday and Friday unless something comes up and I can't.

I own nothing except the unique story line. The OC's in this chapter are two amazing people on this site called Marlene2445 with Lola and Raiyne is based of RaiynetheHedgehog

**And I just have to say that I am completely flattered by the fact that I have an OC in here. That's all I have to say :D I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! And I don't own anything either X3**

* * *

"Dende…do you feel that?" Piccolo asked, looking down from the Lookout to the planet Earth. He hadn't liked what he'd felt for a moment, and it greatly unnerved him as he felt that odd spike in energy. His white cape was gently flowing in the light breeze, his green features pensive, arms crossed, his black eyes trying to inspect the currently invisible situation.

"Feel…_what_?" Dende replied, confused. Things had been rather peaceful on the Earth as of late, Cell being the last major villain that the heroes of the planet had to fight. He didn't understand what suddenly was making Piccolo so tense now, so uneasy.

"I'm not sure," the Namekian warrior replied gravely, "but I can tell you that it's not good." After a few minutes of simply staring down at the planet from his perch on the Lookout, Piccolo decided upon not saying anything else, and promptly began to meditate once more.

The younger Namekian looked off of the edge of the Lookout at the planet below them, trying to figure out what Piccolo had been talking about. He followed Piccolo's original line of sight, but was unable to see anything, and he shrugged slightly, before he turned around to walk back into the palace.

Right as he turned away, though, for a split second…he felt something. An energy of pure evil, nothing but blackness and darkness, tainted blood-red with rage. The intensity of the anger, the hatred, was so much that his breath was nearly taken away. A feeling of such pure evil, such insurmountable hatred and darkness, was almost unfathomable to him. He'd never felt anything like this since Frieza and Cell…

And Dende got the terrible, sinking feeling that everything was suddenly about to go downhill.

* * *

"Dabura, where is it!?"

Upon hearing his name, a rather tall figure turned around to face the one who had called him. Red skin, almost the pigment of blood, made him easily stand out, along with his height. His ears were large and extremely pointed, his nose hooked, his features harsh, and an odd-looking black "M" on his forehead that curled up a bit at the ends. Dressed in a blue spandex suit under odd-looking blue clothes and a long, white cape, he was someone who couldn't be missed. Two small horns came out from in front of his extremely short black hair, and a thin moustache and goatee graced his terrifying features. The most terrifying thing about this man, though, had to be his eyes—sharp and angular, with the whites of the eyes actually _yellow_, and no irises, only having slitted pupils, like a snake's own slitted eyes as they focused on their prey before striking with lightning speed.

Dabura, the Demon King, tried to calm his master down by answering him truthfully—his master hated lies. "I…I was sure it was right here, master."

"Well, if we don't find it soon, we'll just blow everything up until we find it!" the rather irate master said in reply, pulling on one of his whiskers in agitation. In all honesty, on the outside, the master didn't appear intimidating, merely looking like some kind of insect. His skin was a sickly yellow pigment, extremely wrinkled, especially around his large skull. Extremely large eyes that just about bugged out of his head were above the mouth that was currently in an angered frown. Dressed in odd-looking robes as well, also having a cape of his own, his pathetically skinny arms were shown, almost looking dead and withered. He, too, had the odd "M" symbol, but it wasn't on his skin—it was on the large belt that was around his waist. In all honesty, he didn't look intimidating—he looked almost like a laughingstock.

However, many didn't know where his true power lay. And if _anyone_ underestimated him, they were never given another chance to rectify that decision. It was already too late, because they were damned.

Dabura, not wishing to incur the wrath of his master, started to look again among with the other odd-looking aliens surrounding him—all of them having that funny "M" mark somewhere on their skin. The insect-like creature seemed satisfied with their work, and began to leave, unable to stop himself from indulging in his own sinister laugher.

_Soon, we will find Majin Buu,_ he thought gleefully. _We will rule the galaxy like my father did!_ As he thought that, he allowed himself more malicious cackling, sounding almost insane. As they heard the laughter, all the other workers' eyes widened for a moment, before they began to work even faster, all of them remembering what had happened the last time that their master had laughed like that.

They still hadn't finished cleaning the poor victim off of the floor.

* * *

A loud, resounding _SMACK!_ was heard on the rooftop of OrangeStarHigh School.

"OW!" Gohan exclaimed—not from being hurt, but in pure shock; it was a natural reflex for him to exclaim in pain, to pretend he was hurt, when in reality it was _her_ hand that was stinging as she sharply drew it back. "What…what was _that_ for, Videl?" His face was now slightly red, a crimson flush appearing on his cheeks as he realized what he'd been thinking previously, and how close they both had been to each other…

"_That's_ for ditching us yesterday, _and_ for gym," Videl hissed, holding her hand, rubbing it to ease the stinging. However, the lightest of blushes was also staining her own pale cheeks as she realized just how quickly she'd forgotten her plan, how easily distracted she'd been by him, and how close they had been…. Needless to say, both of the teens were extremely embarrassed as they both realized that they would have kissed, had Videl not suddenly come back to her senses and smacked him.

"I'm so sorry about yesterday," Gohan whispered quietly, sincerely. Videl just continued to glare at him, obviously not only satisfied with an apology and clearly expecting an explanation, her blue eyes hard and unrelenting in their intensity. Gohan lasted only a few seconds under that intense gaze, before he frantically searched for an explanation that was slightly believable.

"I do realize that it was the seventh anniversary since Cell's defeat," he began, an idea slowly forming in his head, "but…my family wanted to be together…because it means something…very special to us all." Well, technically, it wasn't _completely_ a lie. He had spent time with his family that day, but had just met with Vegeta beforehand. Not that she needed to know that last little bit.

"Well, can you tell me why?" Videl pressed, crossing her arms as she looked at the boy.

"I…well, I made a terrible mistake that day…and we lost somebody that we loved very much." Even though his father was back, there was no denying the insurmountable guilt that Gohan had felt, for being the cause of his father's death. No matter what anyone told him, he still felt guilt gnawing at him, knowing that if he'd just let go of his damned pride, that his father wouldn't have had to die. His mind started to refill with the memories, wanting to cling to his mind like cobwebs and refuse to be shaken away.

Videl saw those emotions surfacing once again in the onyx depths of his eyes, those emotions that were so powerful, and yet she was unable to give them a name. It had obviously been something major, and now she was feeling slightly bad at interrogating him without considering why he'd hide such a thing in the first place. "I'm so sorry, I…I didn't know," Videl said quietly, her voice almost a whisper, knowing the pain of losing a family member. Even though she often didn't talk about it with people, she, too, missed her mother deeply, wishing that she could see her again, hear her voice once more.

Gohan was just as observant as Videl, however, and saw sadness within her gaze as well. Deciding that a change of subject would be best, he sent her the traditional Son grin, eyes lighting up.

"It's okay, he's back now," Gohan said easily, hoping to change the subject. It was then that he suddenly realized his mistake, and internally winced, severely hoping that he could reverse time and pretend as if the words had never left his mouth. But what he'd said was out—however, it seemed that Videl hadn't caught that at the moment, grabbing some of his food and eating it, glad that he'd randomly changed the subject.

"So Gohan," she suddenly piped up, taking a dumpling from his extremely over-laden plate, not in full interrogation/business mode. The whole odd scene before when they had nearly _kissed_ (oh, god) was put to the back of her mind at the moment, because she wanted answers _now_. "How do you know Mister Briefs?"

Not having expected that, Gohan suddenly spit up the rice he was eating, choking on it. His face turned red for a few moments as tears began to slightly form in his eyes, his vision becoming hazy as he coughed and hacked, trying to clear his windpipe, thumping his chest repeatedly with his fist. Eventually, he managed to get it back down, but was still slightly coughing of the aftermath of nearly choking to death.

"It's…it's a long story," Gohan said, coughing a bit. "It's not…all that interesting. How about I tell it to you another time?" He severely hoped that she wouldn't make the connection between him and Bulma, but he knew that it was inevitable, considering that he knew Vegeta. If he knew Bulma's husband, then he obviously had some connections to Bulma as well, and it would be _really_ bad if everyone found out he was her godson.

"…Fine, but I'm holding it to your word," Videl finally relented. Then, she suddenly realized what Gohan had said before…that someone who had died back at the Cell games was somehow alive? But how was such a thing possible?

"Gohan…how did your loved one come back?" she asked, turning towards him inquisitively, not comprehending. "Isn't it impossible to bring someone back to life?"

_Crap._ He just had to go and slip up, didn't he? However, hoping that she'd drop the subject, he just started eating again, hoping that she'd get the message and not interrogate him about that. However, Videl was a very determined young woman, and when she wanted answers, she got answers. She knew how hard it was to make him reveal something to her, so she resolved to a different tactic—she went over to the door of the roof, closing it and shielding it with her body.

"Gohan," she stated firmly, "tell me what you meant by 'bringing someone back'. Or if you don't want to tell me _that_, then at _least_ tell me how you know Mister Briefs, or I will make us stay here until after school's over—and you _know_ what'll happen if you're late again. You'll get a detention—and, based off of the stories you've told me of your mom, she would _not_ be very happy about that." She smirked, knowing that she had him trapped, blocking the handle so that Gohan couldn't get to it without getting past her.

He realized he was caged for the time being. Letting out a slight sigh, he decided to just tell her about his relationship to the Briefs—it might get her off of his tail for a little while.

"My dad and Bulma were really good friends since they were kids," Gohan answered honestly. "She's like an aunt to me." He waited for the flow of questions that was soon to come, but surprisingly, Videl was silent, having stopped at the response. Had he finally told her enough information to satisfy her for the time being?

Videl simply looked at him in slight surprise, honestly shocked that he'd actually given her an answer. Usually, that boy never told her _anything_, always skirting around the question. Her surprise was just enough to move her from the door, and opportunity that Gohan did not miss. He moved her the slightest bit, able to reach the handle of the door. As fast as he could, he opened the door and dashed through it, having made it just wide enough for him to fit through, running down the hallways.

It was then that Videl suddenly realized that he'd one-upped her, and her blue eyes became furious once more as she turned around, beginning to run after him. "Son Gohan!" she shrieked at him. "Get back here _this instant_!"

Gohan sprinted down the hall for dear life, not wanting to get caught up in the girl's fiery rage as he placed as much distance as he could between them. As he ran, however, he accidentally slammed right into somebody. Gohan didn't see exactly who he ran into, but heard a feminine voice exclaim in surprise, which made him believe that the person that he'd run into was a female.

"Hey!" she said indignantly. "Watch where you're going!" She then began to mutter to herself, rolling her eyes as she said a few rude choice words under her breath.

Not wanting to ignite yet another female's wrath, Gohan instantly apologized. "Oh, I'm sorry," he told her genuinely.

The girl looked at him with slight surprise that he actually apologized, before she sighed and shook her head. "No, it's okay," she said with the slightest bit of grudging remorse. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm new here; hey, do you happen to know where the office is? Oh, by the way, my name's Raiyne," the girl finished, a slight smile on her face as she introduced herself. The girl had a rather petite figure, and was a bit shorter than the "average" height. Her skin was olive-toned, seeming like a very light caramel color. Her dark brown hair was extremely curly, and was currently loose and framing the features on her face. Her eyes were rather large, framed with long eyelashes, and her eyes were a very dark brown as well, the color of warm chocolate.

"It's right down that hallway," he directed her with his own slight grin, pointing towards said hallway. "Take the second left and it should be straight ahead. And my name's Gohan, it's nice to meet you," he introduced himself, formally extending his hand in a polite gesture.

Raiyne laughed a bit at his action—it was a rare treat for boys to be so polite. "Thanks for the help. Well, it's nice to meet you, Gohan," she said with a smile. Then, her gaze focused on something behind him, her eyebrow raising in silent question. "Um, one last thing. Why is something running down the hall, looking like they're ready to murder somebody?"

Gohan turned around and saw the furious Videl sprinting towards him, and instantly ran off to class, hastily saying a quick farewell to Raiyne before he tried to stay out of Videl's sight. The young lady on his trail was not deterred at all, and didn't stop when she almost hit Raiyne, causing the new student to once again mutter about the rudeness of some people, before she went to the office, where Gohan had directed her.

Gohan managed to arrive at study hall right as the bell rung, sitting down in his seat and internally grinning in victory at the fact that he'd managed to get in class on time. After a few minutes, Videl barged in through the doors, looking absolutely furious, glaring daggers at a certain black-haired boy.

"Videl, that's another tardy. You're almost as bad as Gohan" the teacher joked, showing that she didn't truly mind the fact that Videl was late. This specific teacher actually liked the teenagers—she was young for a school teacher, probably only in her early twenties, with short brown hair tied back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck and admittedly pretty green eyes. She was sharply dressed in a white dress shirt, a black vest over it, and also donning a pair of perfectly ironed black slacks and white flats on her feet. She was one of those teachers who always wanted to look nice, and often wore button-up shirts along with her slacks. She was also one of the nicer teachers, and it was lucky that Videl was late to _her_ class and not anyone else's.

"Sorry, Miss Marlene," Videl apologized, walking into the classroom and struggling to keep her anger in check. "Gohan ran off without me." This last sentence was accompanied with a deadly glare at said boy, her blue eyes like chips of ice. Gohan just rubbed the back of his neck in the exact same manner of his father, embarrassed, before going back to his book.

"Videl, I've said it 100 times, call me Lola," the teacher replied, laughing. Videl got to her seat, preparing to give Gohan an earful (Gohan winched slightly as he saw the look in her eye), but before she could begin her rant, Erasa suddenly grabbed her arm.

"Vi, how could you _not_ tell me that you were going _out_ with _Gohan_!?" Erasa damn near screamed into her best friend's ear. This statement made the whole class look at the two black-haired teenagers; Gohan blushed lightly, but pretended he wasn't paying attention and continued reading his book (or attempted to. It was really awkward with everyone's eyes on him and Videl now).

"Erasa," Videl patiently explained, forcing herself to keep her cool, "I was getting my _revenge_ on him. Hell, I would rather date _Sharpener_ then Gohan," she added for good measure, but sincerely hoped that neither of the boys had heard her statement.

However, Sharpener heard her, and a huge grin appeared on his face as he pumped his fist in the air before bringing it down again, letting out a quiet but triumphant, "Yeah!" Gohan also heard this, and for some reason, became the slightest bit disappointed…he wasn't sure why, though, telling himself that he didn't really care who she wanted to date. But he couldn't help that little bit of disappointment and sadness to come over him because of her blatant statement, and continued to read his book.

Videl, however, wasn't paying attention to Gohan, having heard Sharpener's exclamation of joy. She knew that they both heard her, and she also knew that Sharpener would not leave her alone for a while.

Oh, joy.

* * *

"Master, we found Buu's shell," an alien going by the name of Pui-Pui said to his master, bowing respectfully as he addressed the wizard. He, too, like all the others there, had that odd, curly "M" seeming to be painted on his forehead. "The bad news is that it's heavily damaged, and we can't move it."

The insect-like creature's features contorted slightly with rage, and he let out a venomous hiss. "_That_ is the news you have to bring me?" he exclaimed, his voice rising to a higher pitch in his fury. "Do you think I _care_ about that!? Why can't you give me some _useful_ information for _once_ in your miserable existence!?"

Pui-Pui suddenly doubled back in pure fear, his pure white eyes widening as he tried to scamper away. "Master, please, I'm sorry, I beg for your forgiveness—"

And then, his pleading suddenly turned into a scream of agony as the master suddenly incinerated him on the spot. Having vented off his anger, the tiny wizard then turned to the Demon King right next to him, who was his eternal bodyguard in a way, coming right back to his master's side once he'd been called, and hadn't blinked as the wizard had ruthlessly destroyed someone without remorse.

"Dabura, show me to the shell," the insect hissed.

"As you wish, Master Babadi," Dabura replied, respectfully bowing to him, before he began to lead his master to the shell.

When they reached their destination, Dabura showed his master Buu's destroyed shell, where a few of the other minions were trying to somehow find traces of how the shell could have possibly been destroyed. Babidi realized that unless he did the process now, it would be ruined, because the shell wasn't airtight anymore.

He walked up to the shell, causing the minions to scatter away from it in fear of him. Babidi smirked, before placing what little energy he had collected into the shell to begin the process.

"Master, it's working," Dabura informed Babidi, watching the shell light up a bit.

The moment that he finished speaking, the shell suddenly exploded. The force was so great that it killed everyone else in the vicinity but Dabura and Babidi—the wizard had placed a _ki_ shield around them the moment before they could be incinerated by the blast.

When he realized that his master plan had been ruined, Babadi started to seethe, clenching his small fists together as he let out a scream of rage. It took him everything to control himself and stop himself from destroying everything in his line of sight, but he couldn't help but blast the remains of the shell and his minions into ashes.

"Master, if I may," Dabura spoke up. Babidi turned his bulging, furious eyes on the Demon King, prompting him to go on, thinking that he _better_ have something important to say, or else Babidi would not hesitate to destroy him as well. "To get revenge on these inhabitants," Dabura continued, "you can use the curse we learned on Xozor."

A malicious grin slowly spread across Babidi's face—he was honestly surprised he hadn't thought of this before, and hearing it out loud, he realized how much of a genius plan it was. Nodding towards his right-hand man, they flew away from the battleground of the greatest Kamehameha battle of all time, and began to plan on what their next move would be.

* * *

"So, Videl…what were you and Gohan doing up on the roof for forty minutes?" Erasa asked curiously, her bright blue eyes alight, wanting to hear all of the juicy details as she leaned in to hear what her best friend would say.

"We were just talking on the roof, Erasa. I'm surprised you didn't look up there for us," Videl explained, before looking towards Lola, who had called the class to attention, a petite young woman now standing next to her, seeming slightly embarrassed but also holding her head high.

"Class," Lola began with a smile, "I would like to introduce a new student, Raiyne Tenebris. I know that it's pretty far into the year already, so everyone, please be nice to her. Why don't you introduce yourself a bit, honey?"

"Thank you, Miss Marlene. Hi, everyone, my name's Raiyne. I hope that everyone is as nice as the person I met in the hall earlier today." The giver of the voice was a slightly familiar girl to Gohan, who was currently wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a dark blue, slightly-form-fitting T-shirt. She also had a bit of jewelry on—a silver ring on her right middle finger, and a pretty silver chain around her neck, along with a pair of dangly silver earrings.

Gohan recognized her as the girl he met in the hall—upon both looking at her and hearing her name—and began to wave lightly at her, trying to wave her up to their seats. He didn't want her to feel lonely on her first day officially in a class inside of the school, and wanted to help in any way he could.

"Well, Raiyne, it looks like Gohan wants you to sit by him," Lola said, laughing a bit at Gohan's reaction to the new student. Raiyne also recognized Gohan, remembering that he was the surprisingly polite boy in the hall. Relieved that she saw a familiar face, Raiyne went up to the seat next to him, sitting down.

"Hi, Gohan," Raiyne greeted, a small blush coating her cheeks as she smiled lightly at him.

"Hey Raiyne," Gohan greeted with his own returning smile. "I'd like you to meet my friends: Erasa, Videl, and Sharpener." He pointed to each of his friends as he said their names, before he introduced the new girl to the others.

"And guys, this is Raiyne. While running to class, I accidentally ran into her," Gohan explained, giving everyone the Son grin.

"Well, it's nice to meet _somebody_ that Gohan knows," Erasa grinned, eagerly shaking her hand. Raiyne took note of the blonde's upbeat and bubbly attitude, and believed that she just gained a few good friends, and couldn't help the smile that came across her features.

"Hey, Videl…did you happen to stop a bank robbery yesterday?" Raiyne asked curiously, remembering something from the day before.

"Yeah…how did you know that?" Videl returned. Usually, people didn't know which exact crimes she stopped, and just knew that she'd been called to duty and that she had fulfilled her duty as well.

"Well, I was in the bank with my aunt at the time, and I saw you and some weird guy in a green suit beat everyone up," Raiyne replied, remembering the situation. She remembered the pure fear that had run through her system as her aunt tried to shield her with her body against the men with guns, but luckily, both Videl and the green-suited hero—he called himself the Great Saiyaman, she believed?—had arrived just in time.

"Well, that was me," Videl replied with a smug grin. "I'm kind of the protector of the city." It was obvious that she was proud of her job, too, puffing up slightly with her pride, glad that she could claim that she was part of the police force and actually stopped crimes.

"…Saiyaman helps," Gohan quietly grumbled under his breath, slightly disgruntled, but made sure that no one else could hear him. A light pout was on his face, almost like a little kid's, as he realized how little recognition Saiyaman was getting.

"Raiyne," Erasa piped up, suddenly eager, "do you happen to know who Videl's dad is?" The blonde always loved to inform people of Videl's special lineage, even though the black-haired girl often hated it, groaning now as she rolled her eyes, not wanting to be part of this particular conversation.

"No…how would I know that?" Raiyne replied, confused.

"Well, her dad is none other than Mister Satan, the man who beat Cell and saved the world!" Erasa informed her excitedly, grinning.

Raiyne grinned a bit. "That's really cool," she told Videl. "But I bet it's hard to have somebody so famous as your father."

* * *

After school had finished, a group of five teenagers—now friends—were walking out of school.

"And then, Goten came out and said he made a snowman," Gohan said with a grin. "I swear, I've never seen so much flour in one place at one time." Everyone burst out laughing at that.

"How did your mom react?" Erasa asked with a giggle.

"Let's just say that…well, Goten will never, _ever_ confuse flour and snow again," Gohan decided upon saying, causing the other four teens to chuckle lightly at that. Sharpener then looked down at his watch, his brown eyes widening as he checked the time.

"Hey, guys, I'm sorry, but I gotta go and leave you with Brains over here," Sharpener said, and quickly gave his farewells as he turned towards the street he needed to take to go home.

"Oooh, yeah, I forgot I have an appointment at the salon!" Erasa gasped, almost as if an unforgivable deed had been done. How could she have _ever_ forgotten her appointment!? "I have to go guys, see you tomorrow!" Erasa called to them as she ran off.

"Well, looks like I should be leaving too," Gohan added—he needed to get out of sight of the students before he was able to take flight.

"_Not_ so fast mister," Videl suddenly stated, whirling on Gohan suddenly, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "You're _not_ leaving me without an explanation about earlier." She locked her gaze with his, determined to receive answers, while Gohan silently cursed lightly inside of his head, knowing that he was thoroughly screwed at the moment. Raiyne, not knowing exactly what to do in this slightly awkward situation, slowly walked away from the scene.

"Guys, I'm still learning my way around the city, so I'm going to leave now," she informed them. "I'm able to get home from here, and I don't want to get lost. Bye!" she said in farewell, before walking towards her aunt's house. Videl waved back, and Gohan yelled his goodbye to her.

Once she was out of earshot, Videl wasted no time in pouncing on Gohan to answer her questions, needing to understand the mystery that was Son Gohan. "So," she said firmly, "explain. _What_, exactly, did you mean about 'he's back'?"

Yes, it was official—Gohan was very, very screwed. "Why don't we go to your house and talk? I'll explain there," Gohan suddenly suggested, trying to somehow buy himself some time, trying to avoid having to answer her question as well. Videl looked at him suspiciously, before she reluctantly nodded, and the two began to walk to her house. While they were walking, they unconsciously moved a little closer to each other, arms lightly brushing against each other's but neither of them commenting on it.

When they reached her house, Videl knocked on the door. Then, she suddenly realized how bad of an idea it was to bring Gohan here, and inwardly winced, wondering what was going to happen. A thousand scenarios played through her head at the moment, none of them good.

"Who dares to disturb the great Hercule?" her father's voice boomed as he opened the door. Upon seeing her, though, his face suddenly turned into a smile. "Oh, hi, sweetie! How are you?" he asked cheerfully. Then, he caught sight of the teenaged _boy_ behind her, who was wearing a slightly sheepish grin on his face. A _boy_. Standing behind his Videl. "And…WHO IS THIS BOY?" he demanded, furiously glaring at Gohan, yelling so loudly that spit was actually flying out from his mouth. "Do you _not_ remember that all boys want to do is get into your _pants_!?"

"Dad," Videl sighed, shaking her head, lightly blushing at the last thing that her father had said, "he's a friend from school. I've told you about him a few times." Hercule decided to inspect the boy closely, wanting to see if the boy was deemed worthy enough to enter his house with his little girl, invading Gohan's personal space as he critically inspected him.

"Tch, _look_ at him," he said to his daughter disdainfully. "He doesn't have any muscle at _all_; why would you hang out with some scrawny kid like him?" Hercule was making it very obvious that he wanted him to leave his house this instant.

"Dad, he _easily_ beat Sharpener in gym class today, one of your best students," Videl snapped, slightly annoyed with her dad's attitude at the moment. Hercule, not knowing how to respond to her statement, staring at the scrawny boy in shock, reluctantly moved so they could enter the house.

When Videl got inside, she dumped her schoolbag on the floor, prompting Gohan to do the same. Then, she motioned for her to follow him to her room, not wanting her dad being nosy and listening in to her conversation with him. They went upstairs until she reached her bedroom door, and she opened it and walked into the room.

It was cozy, with a blue color scheme, different shades of blue all over the place. There were also purples and greens as well, making the color scheme the "cool" colors on the color wheel, and they blended nicely together. The girl walked up to her hickory-wood desk, picking up the remote and raising the volume on her T.V., which she had simply lowered before going to school, not bothering to turn it off. The background noise from the television helped break the slight tension a bit, and Videl then sat on her bed, prompting Gohan to do the same. She leaned back against her pillows, absentmindedly hugging one of her many different stuffed animals to her chest, while Gohan sat at the edge of her bed, looking at her other stuffed animals, a small grin on his face.

"So?" Videl prompted, lightly running her fingers through the fake fur of her large stuffed puppy, which had been a present from Erasa for Christmas last year. She looked at Gohan expectantly, being patient with him since he'd finally agreed to tell her the truth.

Gohan sighed, before he surrendered, nodding. "Okay, so it's like this—"

Suddenly, from behind them, there was a loud, static-y sound, and the two teens turned towards Videl's T.V. in shock, seeing that the channel that it had been on had temporarily been fuzzed out. For a few moments, only the gray and black fuzz was seen, before a newscaster's face was shown, holding a microphone in his hand as he stared at the camera, seeming shocked about something.

"Breaking news!" the man began, his voice blasting through the television set. "Central City has been attacked by an unknown force; for some reason, people are beating each other to death in the street! The town is closed off, and nobody knows if King Furry is alive or not. The military has been sent to deal with this threat. More details on this odd and dangerous situation will be told as they are learned by us, and you will be constantly updated on the situation the moment we get information. Back to you, Bob."

* * *

Boom done.

Vegeta: Where am I?

Cap42: Dunno

Next time on The Walking Z a survivor's story: What attacked Central city? What are Dabura and Babadi planning? Will Videl ever learn what happened to Gohan during the Cell games? Find out a few of these next time.

**And this is RaiynetheHedgehog, signing out as well! Hope you guys liked the chapter! :D**


	3. Scarface the great

To Chaos267: I will.

To Marlene2445: Course you do Lola is in it lol

All I own is the story line.

**And all that I, the lovely and awesome RaiynetheHedgehog (man, I can be conceited at times X3) owns, is the little beta edits on this chapter, and also my own story, In These Moments, which is about Gohan and Videl's relationship in the canon storyline. If any of you guys would like to read it, please, by all means, do so! :D**

**But we don't own DBZ. We would absolutely LOVE it if we did though :D**

* * *

The two teenagers stared at the television in shock, not believing what they had just heard in the breaking news. People attacking each other in Central City? What in the world was going _on_? They exchanged uneasy glances, before looking back at the T.V., wanting to hear more about the situation in Central City.

"Thanks, Larry," another reporter said, the camera flashing back to a news studio, where this new reporter with slicked-back hair and a haughty composure looked at the camera. "In other news," this new reporter continued, "Mister Satan is expected to win the Martial Arts championship again. Thank you all for your time; and now, back to your original programming." And just like that, the generic channel flashed right back onto the television screen.

Both teens looked at the screen in shock, unable to fathom how easily news reporters could change their information. One moment they were talking about a truly life-threatening situation in Central City; the next, they transfer to the idea that the world champion would win the freaking championship _again_? It was almost as if people _killing_ each other for _no_ apparent reason wasn't as important as hearing about other random news. It simply boggled both of them to no end.

Gohan and Videl both exchanged glances between each other once more. "Do you think that this is something major?" Videl asked him quietly.

The boy nodded in reply, his eyes serious for a few moments. "Yeah, I do. But I'm sure that this situation will be cleaned up in no time." Whatever was attacking couldn't be any worse than Cell, he figured. Between himself, his father, Vegeta, Piccolo, and even Goten and Trunks, they would easily be able to defeat this enemy if the military and Earth's Special Forces couldn't handle it.

Videl nodded, still trying to regain her composure, still lightly irked at how little information they were given about the Central City predicament, worried for the innocent lives there. Eventually, though, she collected herself once more, and then turned back to the teenaged boy in her room, remembering their previous conversation. "So, Gohan, where were we again?" she prompted.

"Umm… well, I _just_ finished explaining my story, remember?" He came up with that genius answer on the spot, slightly pleased with himself, but was unable to stop the unconscious rubbing of the back of his neck in slight guilt and sheepishness.

The girl inspected him critically for a couple of seconds, before she believed him. This was _Gohan_, for crying out loud; he wouldn't be able to pull off a lie like that so easily. So she shrugged (she hadn't noticed Gohan's slight widening of his eyes in shock at the fact that he believed her, nor the relieved breath that he exhaled as he realized that the particular secret was still safe), turning back to the T.V., flipping through the channels, trying to find the news so that she could stay updated on this Central City mess.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Capsule Corp, the doorbell rang. An eager lavender-haired little boy dashed through the living room up to the door, grinning brightly, expecting to see his best friend on a surprise visit.

But what he saw as he opened the door was definitely _not_ Goten.

There was a young man, about the age of eighteen, standing in the doorway, seeming ragged and tired. For some reason, Trunks thought that he looked like him, with lavender hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin, and his dad's facial features. The unknown young man's clothing was torn and ripped, and he was rather dirty as well—it looked like he had just escaped from the forest after a few days of living there.

When the man's eyes fell on Trunks, he couldn't help but smile a bit at the little boy. "Hello," he said, trying to seem approachable. "May I please speak to your mother?"

Trunks eyed the man suspiciously, inspecting him with his own bright blue eyes, and the man chuckled at something. "I promise, I'm not here to harm anyone," he told the little boy, sounding run-down and defeated. "Can you please go get your mother for me?"

For some reason, Trunks felt like he could trust this man. The little boy nodded, ordering the man to wait there, before he called his mother at the top of his lungs, searching for her energy as he zipped through the many hallways of Capsule Corp.

"MOM!" he called, still running down the hallways, checking the places where she would possibly be—the kitchen (oh, was _that_ a scary thought), the lab, her bedroom, one of the many offices…

Eventually, though, in less than a minute, the beautiful blue-haired heiress emerged from one of the labs, still donning a pair of goggles, smiling as she saw her son. She quickly told her father that she'd be right back, while Trunks exchanged quick pleasantries with his grandpa. "Yes, Trunks?" she asked him, pulling the scrunchie out of her hair, allowing her aqua tresses to fall around her shoulders.

"Mom," Trunks began, "there's a man that looks like me, and he wants to see you. He's waiting at the door."

"What?" Bulma asked, confused as she followed her son to the door. She wasn't expecting anyone, so who could it be? And why would Trunks say that he looked like him. Could it possibly be…but it couldn't be, could it?

She re-opened the door, and, just like Trunks had said, it was a young man who looked just like him, and Bulma's mouth fell open as she recognized just _who_, exactly, it was. Her eyes slightly filled up with tears, and a happy smile graced her features, almost unable to believe who it was. When the man smirked back slightly at her, she let out a cry of joy and instantly wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close. He returned the gesture slightly, hugging her in return, while she nearly sobbed into his shoulder.

"Oh, Mirai!" Bulma exclaimed once she pulled away from her son from the future's embrace, smiling brightly. She'd thought that she and the others would never see him again. "What are you _doing_ here?" As she spoke, her eyes critically roved over him, taking in the fact that he was standing in the tattered remains of his clothing and noticing the look in his eye. Trunks began to wonder who this man was, and why he was interacting like this with his mother, feeling the slightest prickles of jealousy begin to gnaw at him as he looked at the young man, who his mother had called Mirai.

"I needed a place to stay," Mirai answered, looking at the ground, almost seeming ashamed. "Can I please stay here?"

Upon seeing the look on his face, Bulma couldn't help but draw him into yet another warm embrace. "Of course you can stay here, you're welcome to stay whenever you want," she told him truthfully, kissing his cheek. "Hey…what happened to your clothes?" Once again, she looked at the many rips and tears that lined his cobalt blue jacket, his grey pants, and his black tank top—his traditional outfit.

Mirai tried to keep his face as blank and impassive as his father's, but one could suddenly see the pain and emotion reflecting in his blue eyes. "There…there was an explosion at Capsule Corp.," he told her, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Everyone was there, and…I was the only one that survived." He shook his head to clear the memories, not wanting to hear the screams of pain moments before the humans were killed by the explosion, not wanting to remember how unnaturally pale his mother's body had been as he finally managed to find her in the debris, as he held her in his arms, as she whispered her final, tender farewell to him before her eyes drifted shut, never to open again…

"Oh, honey," Bulma murmured sympathetically, once again drawing him into a hug. This time, Mirai returned it as tightly as he could without breaking her, replacing the images of his dead mother with this one—here, his mother was young, happy, and very much alive. It was better to live in this than to remember what had happened.

"Mom?" Trunks said quietly once the two pulled away again, pulling lightly on her short dress.

"Yes, sweetie?" Bulma replied, looking down at her present timeline son and smiling a bit at him, running her fingers through his lavender hair lightly.

Trunks debated on pushing her hand away, but he didn't at the moment. "What does he mean by an explosion at Capsule Corp.?" he inquired curiously, confused at what Mirai was telling them. "We're right here, and there's been no other explosion except for when Dad trains."

"Woman," a gruff voice suddenly said from behind them—speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear. "Who is at the damned door?" The Saiyan prince entered the room, his arms crossed. It took him a moment to see who was at the door, but he recognized the young man the moment that he laid eyes on him. Mirai looked back at his father, and couldn't help but grin the slightest bit.

Vegeta smirked a bit. "Well," he said, actually taking this sudden circumstance…_well_. "This certainly is a surprise."

Mirai grinned back at Vegeta, glad that his father seemed to remember him well. "It was more of a spur-of-the-moment thought," he explained.

"Hn. Boy, you and me, GR. Now." With that, Vegeta simply walked away to the Gravity Room. Trunks, believing that Vegeta was speaking to him, began to follow his father. However, Bulma lightly placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, holding him back, while Mirai followed him inside, not knowing where the G.R. was in the house.

"Mom, do you remember what happened _last_ time I ignored Dad?" Trunks whined slightly, not wanting to reenact that certain scenario.

"Honey, he was talking to Mirai," the beautiful woman explained to her little son. Seeing Trunks' confused look, the boy not completely understanding the situation, she couldn't help but smile a bit. "I'll explain while they train," she promised, watching her son from the future and her husband both walk down the hall, before they disappeared from sight and went to the Gravity Room.

The two men eventually reached the Gravity Room, and Vegeta allowed Mirai to enter before him. The lavender-haired young man looked around with an almost awed look on his face—he'd never trained in the gravity room, and the only one that his mother had constructed in his timeline was the one in the spaceship. Seeing such a room in Capsule Corp. was very interesting, causing Vegeta to smirk as he closed the door behind them.

"So, boy…why are you here?" Vegeta asked, curiously inspecting his son from the future. It was obvious that the boy had kept up his training, which was good, though it seemed that Mirai hadn't changed much. Vegeta guessed that only a few months had passed since he had returned to his timeline, and that he had wished to go back a few years closer to his timeline this time, thus leading it to be seven years since his arrival and the defeat of Cell when it seemed that nothing much had changed with him.

Turning towards his father, the young man's blue eyes shone with slight sadness—those blue eyes were just like his mother's, Vegeta mused, at times revealing all of his emotion to the world. "Mom…she died in my time," Mirai answered, closing his eyes as he fought to keep his composure, especially in front of his father. He knew that his father did not like emotional displays, so he sucked up his sorrow, and was relieved when the taciturn Saiyan prince didn't comment, simply looking at him to continue. "Since…well, since everyone there is…gone, there's nothing really left for me there. The Earth is just about cleansed of the human population because of the explosion in Mom's lab, which killed a great number of the few thousands of humans that had survived since the Android attack. Also, the humans had begun to act distrustful of me, realizing that I was the one who managed to kill the Androids and stop the threat of Cell."

Remembering, his fists lightly clenched in anger as he growled lowly, before he hissed out the breath he was holding, deciding that his long explanation needed a conclusion. "There was nothing left for me there, so I decided to come here," he finished. Then, he opened his eyes once more, making eye-contact with his father, slight compassion in his eyes as he asked the next question. "Also…how's Gohan taking Goku's death?"

"Kakarot is alive," Vegeta replied gruffly, shrugging off the issue as quickly as that. Surprisingly, his son didn't ask any questions, and he continued as he thought of something. "Also, boy, you're going to school, since I have to as well," Vegeta smirked, thinking of all the things he could do to his eldest son from the future and the firstborn son of his rival while at school

"What?!" Mirai exclaimed indignantly, huffing slightly as he ran a hand unconsciously through his slightly overlong bangs, which fell right back down in front of his blue eyes once more—his action had just about voided itself. "That's _so_ unfair."

"Kakarot's first brat is doing it, so why can't you?" Vegeta retorted smugly, knowing that there was no comeback for that.

Mirai shook his head, sighing slightly, before he looked at his father oddly as he realized what the eldest prince had said. "Wait. What do you mean, 'first'?"

"Kakarot had another spawn," Vegeta replied, rolling his eyes as he thought of Goten. The little boy was a carbon copy of his rival through and through, and he had to continue making sure that his own son remained stronger than the second son of that third-class dog. "He's best friends with the Trunks in this timeline."

Mirai paused, looking like he was about to say something, but before he could voice whatever he was about to say, he was punched right across the jaw by his father. His blue eyes widened in shock for a moment, before he glared furiously at his father, holding his split lip, stemming the light blood flow.

"I think we've had enough talk for now," Vegeta smirked, seeing the furious look within Mirai's sky-blue eyes—Bulma's always ignited like that when he insulted her as well, along with the present Trunks. "What do you say?"

Mirai couldn't resist a light smirk—the action caused his facial features to look exactly like his father's at the moment, their faces mirroring each other's. "Well, I think that I would rather like to get revenge on you for hitting me," he retorted, getting down into a fighting stance.

"Now, _that's_ what I like to hear," the full-blooded Saiyan prince said in approval. He ascended to his own Super Saiyan state, changing the gravity to about 300 G's, and was proud when he noticed that Mirai did nothing but promptly transform into the legendary state as well, not seeming to use any effort, the weight of 300 times gravity seeming to have no effect on him.

A moment later, the two collided with each other in a blinding flash of golden light.

* * *

"Mirai, Mirai, wake up!" Trunks yelled, jumping on his new big brother's stomach. He'd been told yesterday by his mother about his older self, and couldn't help but think about how amazingly _cool_ it was that his future self was currently in this timeline, and was staying to be his brother. Trunks then laughed, remembering that Goten told him that this was sometimes the only way that he was able to get Gohan sometimes, and was currently using this tactic on his newfound sibling.

What he hadn't been expecting was for Mirai's blue eyes to suddenly snap open in shock, letting out a gasp, and Trunks was punched into the wall not a moment after Mirai's eyes opened.

Mirai's breathing was slightly labored, having instinctually hit whoever had been touching him, believing it to be an attack. However, he turned to the wall, and saw the younger version of himself letting out a cry of pain at having landed on the wall and at being punched so hard by Mirai. Trunks looked up at the young man, his blue eyes beginning to fill up lightly with tears.

Instantly, Mirai realized his mistake, and his blue eyes softened, losing the slight edge that they'd gained. He got out of bed, going up to the little guy and kneeling down by him, before drawing his younger self into a hug.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," Mirai replied truthfully, while the boy sniffled lightly into his shoulder. It was a good sign, since Trunks hadn't pushed him away yet, so Mirai began to explain his actions quietly, feeling that Trunks deserved a reason as to why he'd acted that way. "I've just…I've been so used to being attacked at any time, even while I was sleeping…so I attacked you instinctually when you jumped on me. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," Trunks eventually replied, his voice still lightly trembling with his tears. "Dad says I should always be on my guard, too…"

Mirai smiled down lightly at the little boy. "Hah, you're lucky," he chuckled. "When _I_ wasn't on my guard, Dad never _told_ me. He just punched me as hard as he can so that I got the point." Trunks managed a laugh, looking up at his big brother and hugging him around the neck.

"I forgive you," Trunks told him quietly, resting his head on his shoulder. "Can we get something to eat? I'm starving!"

"Sure thing, kid," Mirai replied. He couldn't help the small smile that reached his features as he picked up the little boy in his strong arms, carrying him into the kitchen just like he'd requested.

Bulma saw the two entering the kitchen, and she couldn't help the smile that formed on her face. She hadn't been sure how Trunks would react to his older self being in the household, but it seemed that any of her worries had been useless. The two boys had easily warmed up to each other, and it was hard to believe that they _weren't_ siblings, in all technicality. For the sake of everyone else in the world, they'd be brothers—Mirai would be the unknown first child of Bulma Briefs, and Trunks would simply be the one that everyone had heard about, and had speculated upon. It was a simple and rather sensible plan to her.

Her smile grew even more when Trunks didn't let go of Mirai, and the taller boy began to serve them both the breakfast that their grandmother had prepared for them (both Dr. Briefs and Bunny had been ecstatic at the return of their grandson from the future, and Bunny's cooing had gone on for almost an _hour_ before Mirai had been able to get away from her), his younger self telling him what he also wanted for breakfast. Trunks only moved one hand from clasping around his neck, the other still holding the teenager's as he quietly told his big brother what he wanted to eat. It was a cute sight to behold—in her mind, the only adorable sight between these two that surpassed that was when Trunks had been a baby and had pulled on Mirai's overlong lavender hair. She smiled fondly at the memory.

"So, Mirai," she began, prompting the boy from the future to turn around and meet his mother's warm blue eyes. "I got everything set up for you already; you can go to school either today or tomorrow, depending on when you wanna start." After she finished speaking, Bulma went off on a slight tangent. "You know, I can get things done _really_ fast. Man, I am _awesome_," she proudly told herself, inspecting her fingernails smugly.

Both of the lavender-haired boys laughed at their mother's actions. Then Trunks turned towards his big brother, and put on a little pout. "Stay with me today, please." He then used the puppy-dog eyes that he'd begun to learn from Goten on Mirai—his best friend had informed him that the puppy-eyes worked on _everyone_, except the parents. Currently, he was using it to his advantage, pouting his lip out the slightest bit, making his eyes as large as they could, putting the most innocent look on his face that he could muster. Sure, it was hard for him, and completely out of character, considering that he was the man little hell-raiser in the dynamic duo of him and Goten, but he was sure that the look would instantly wear Mirai down.

And it did. Looking at his younger self's face, Mirai let out a slight sigh, before he grinned a bit, getting the message. "Mom," he told their mother, "I think that I'll start tomorrow, if that's all right with you."

Bulma smiled at her two sons. "Of course it's fine, sweetheart," she told him, eyes sparkling. "I'm so happy that you two have grown to love each other so much in such a short amount of time."

The two boys grinned at her, before Trunks suddenly got an idea of what they could do after breakfast, and possibly play now. "Hey, why don't we play tag?" he suggested eagerly, while Mirai was putting both of their plates on the table, still holding the little boy.

"Sure thing, squirt," he agreed, placing his own over-laden plate on the table after he'd placed Trunks' at his seat. Trunks laughed as he was called "squirt"—he'd heard Gohan call Goten that a few times, and found that he liked being called that by his big brother.

Eagerly, Trunks tapped Mirai's shoulder, before bouncing out of his arms. "Tag, you're _It_!" he laughed, and before Mirai could react, he dashed outside.

The elder boy couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "Oh, kiddo, this means _war_," he teased lightly, and heard Trunks' laughter outside as he ran after him, and the two began to chase each other around the large Capsule Corp. lawn. Bulma watched her sons with another gentle smile on her face, glad that Mirai had returned to stay; he was a good influence to Trunks, and she'd missed him, honestly. And they just were so _cute_ together!

She couldn't resist going to quickly get the camera and taking a few pictures for the scrapbook. Her mom would absolutely love it.

* * *

"Maggots," Vegeta began to the class, arms crossed against his broad chest, "tomorrow, you'll all be getting a surprise. _Especially_ you, brat." This last sentence was said with a glance towards Gohan, showing that he was the specific "brat" being addressed.

"Gohan, who's that?" Raiyne whispered, having to tiptoe to be able to reach his ear. She'd hung out with Gohan for the majority of the day, along with Videl, Erasa, and Sharpener; she was honestly relieved that she had a group of friends.

"That's the gym teacher, Mister Briefs," Gohan answered with a slight sigh. "He's…well, there's nothing that I can exactly say that would describe him enough. Just make sure he doesn't _actually_ learn your name, like how he learned Sharpener's."

Emphasizing his point, Gohan pointed to the long blond-haired boy, who had to run a mile after making a quirk at the gym teacher about his height. Needless to say, _that_ hadn't ended well at _all_ for Sharpener.

"Brat, get up here," Vegeta instructed, fixing his gaze on Gohan. "I need you for something."

Slightly confused, but not questioning the prince, Gohan walked up to Vegeta. Right as he was going to be next to him and was going to ask what he wanted from him, Vegeta suddenly punched him in the face without any warning.

"Ow!" Gohan exclaimed, grabbing his nearly broken nose—Vegeta wasn't exactly one to pull punches, which was why Gohan wasn't sure if his nose was now dislocated (it probably wasn't, since it wasn't bleeding and he didn't feel agony, but still)."What was _that_ for?"

Vegeta scoffed disgustedly at the young man, disdain in his onyx eyes. "For not remembering to be on guard at all times," he retorted, annoyed at the fact that the boy had forgotten such a simple rule in battle. "Now, run five miles, and do 200 pushups after each lap."

Gohan resisted the urge to roll his eyes in annoyance—he _knew_ that Vegeta was trying absolutely _everything_ to make his life as close as a living hell as it could get in school, but he didn't complain, and started his running.

Raiyne's eyes had widened as she watched the exchange between the two. "How can he _do_ that to Gohan? That's _insane_!" she whispered to Videl (who she _didn't_ have to tiptoe to reach her ear, the new girl noted with slight satisfaction). "I mean, punching him in the face, and then making him _run_? And that's a _lot_ of running that he has to do."

"I don't know how he does it, but Gohan doesn't complain," Videl said quietly in reply. "I think that they know each other." All right, Videl _knew_ that they knew each other—Gohan had told him herself the day before that he knew Bulma Briefs, who was Vegeta Briefs' wife. However, she didn't completely want to betray Gohan's trust, and decided to keep it vague, as if she wasn't completely sure about it.

"Now, maggots," Vegeta continued—oh, he had _so_ much fun calling them maggots, and they couldn't do _jackshit_ about it—as he now addressed the rest of the class. "Find a partner to spar with."

Everyone began to pair up the moment that he said so. Realizing that both Sharpener and Gohan were still running, and seeing that Erasa had already been paired with another one of her friends, Videl decided that she would pair up with Raiyne.

"So, Raiyne," Videl began, slightly curious, "do you have any fighting knowledge?" As she spoke, she sunk down instinctually into her fighting stance.

"A bit," Raiyne answered, seeming slightly bashful about that fact as she looked at the ground. "I _did_ take karate for a little while, but I never even made it to a green belt. What I have more knowledge of is combat—I can shoot a gun and do military style hand-to-hand combat. But in Martial Arts like this…no, not too much."

"It's okay," Videl said with an absentminded shrug. "I can help."

"Oh, thank _goodness_," Raiyne couldn't resist joking, doing a bock bow, filling her voice with fake respect, grinning at her friend. "The great Miss Satan will help a lowly, insignificant peasant like me. May I kiss your feet in supplication?"

Videl couldn't help but snicker at the new girl's actions—this girl was all right in her book. It didn't seem that she cared too much about the fact that her father was the great and mighty Hercule Satan, and that was a plus for Videl. "Hey," the black-haired crime-fighter joked. "I don't _have_ to help if you don't want me to."

Before Raiyne could reply, Sharpener came up to the two girls, having finally finished his run. He seemed slightly winded, but managed to regain his air rather quickly as he reached them. Gohan, surprisingly, was not far behind him, having just done the home stretch of his finishing lap, quickly doing the 200 pushups before going over to the two females as well. "Hey guys," the blonde smirked, running his fingers through his hair for a moment. "Miss me?"

"Nope," Videl shot back instantly. Then, she smirked, continuing with, "but we _did_ miss Gohan." Raiyne laughed at this, and Sharpener rolled his eyes.

What Videl didn't notice was the light blush that appeared on Gohan's cheeks after she had spoken.

* * *

"Get King Furry _out_ of—"

The soldier was unable to finish his sentence, which cut off in a sudden, piercing shriek of agony. All the soldiers who heard it through their headsets winced, silently hoping that their comrade was all right.

"My King," a soldier stated firmly, facing the dog with fear in his own green eyes as he hastily did a respective bow, before continuing to speak. "We _have_ to get you out of here." They were currently running up the stairs, trying to escape the building.

Just as he finished speaking, another soldier hushed him for a moment, staring at the bottom door to the stairs, which they had locked. The soldier who had been speaking turned towards the door, where a low, steady _thump_ing sound was heard. All of the soldiers in the stairwell got their guns at the ready, facing down at the door instinctually.

And then, the door was finally broken, and what was seen was a horrid sight to be hold.

The stairs were suddenly swarming with people who slowly filed in through the broken door—but they weren't people, didn't seem like people at all. They looked like they were mere replicas of what used to be humans, missing some body part—chunks of skin or hair, missing entire limbs, some of their brains even being exposed through a completely broken skull. They made no sound whatsoever, silent and deadly as they began to pour into the room. One with an eyeball hanging partially out of its socket and missing his arm below the elbow and a few chunks of his skin was in the front of the lines of these creatures that once were humans, but were not anymore.

These monsters weren't the only newcomers, though, and all the people in the stairway felt a light breeze pass them, before they realized that someone had managed to get in front of them. Once again, some of the soldiers raised their guns to this newcomer, but they realized that he didn't have the same look as those people did—their skin a pale, sickly gray, their eyes dead, completely devoid of life.

"Hey, who's that?" King Furry asked, pointing to the newcomer, who turned around for a moment at his mention. His black hair was thick and cut short, his features slightly tanned, and he had a muscular build. Dressed in a casual T-shirt and jeans, he would seem like any other normal person. However, two of his most distinguishing features were his scars—one across his right eye, the other an "X" mark across his left cheek.

"King Furry," the man began, turning around to address the king of the earth as quickly as possibly, stealing glances down the stairs, where the odd monsters—the only word that they could use to describe them was _zombies_—were slowly ascending, getting closer by the second. "You have to trust me. My name's Yamcha, and I'm here to get you out of here."

"Soldiers, stay here," King Furry ordered with authority ringing clearly in his voice. "Hold the line while only Captain Con and Yamcha go and check to see if the upper floors are safe." The small group of soldiers nodded, standing at guard, pulling out their guns and shooting if they saw a zombie coming up the stairwell. Yamcha waited for this Captain Con character, and soon, he was met with a man who obviously seemed able to take care of himself.

Con was a tall man of about six feet high, just about as tall as Yamcha, possibly a bit taller. His black hair that was in a buzz cut was revealed—he'd already lost his helmet in the fray—and his green eyes were determined. He had two scars on his face as well, one more prominent than the other; a jagged line that traveled from his right cheek to his temple was the more noticeable one, puffy and paler than the rest of the skin, still seeming inflamed; the other one was a darker pigment than his skin instead, and went down the left side of his nose, lightly traveling onto his left cheek. Even though he didn't look all that strong on the outside, the air with which he carried himself—and the scars—showed that he was able to be fully independent and was proud of that fact. The two men exchanged nods, showing their mutual respect for each other upon their first meeting.

"Hurry, Captain!" a soldier yelled, turning towards Con. "We don't have much ammo left, and we _still_ haven't figured out how to kill them!" As if punctuating his statement, the line of soldiers began to shoot frantically, many of them cursing furiously as they realized that their attempts were in vain, backing up the stairs.

Seeing how little time they had left and how quickly the situation was escalating into a desperate hassle to survive, Con and Yamcha quickly rushed up the stairs to find a way to the roof. If they managed to find a safe passage without any of the zombies, then they knew that they would be home-free—they'd be able to call a copter, and Con had a single copter who would respond to him instantly, piloted by none other than his wife.

While they ran, however, without any warning, a zombie seemingly came out of nowhere and suddenly pounced on Yamcha.

"Get him off me!" Yamcha exclaimed, trying to rip the beast off of him frantically, not wanting to show the full extent of his powers in public. Hearing him, Con turned towards the former bandit, and ran up to him, taking precise aim. He aimed right between the eyes of the zombie—this zombie was hideous, lacking one of its eyes completely, the other one facing a completely different direction and colored a sickly, blind gray, chunks of skin missing, and lacking a couple of fingers on one hand and the complete arm on the other.

However, when he gave it a precise, perfect headshot, the zombie let out a piercing wail, before it collapsed on the floor, finally dead. Con realized that he'd found a way to kill them, and wasted no time in telling his men the information.

"Anyone that can hear this—they die from a headshot!" Con yelled into the mic, while the doors to the many rooms along the stairs began opening, filling the stairwell once again with zombies. He turned around, rapidly shooting, trying to aim for their heads while he and Yamcha continued to run up the stairs, trying to seek refuge on the roof.

"Gotta a gun I can borrow?" Yamcha hurriedly asked Con, his dark brown eyes flickering between the zombies and the stairs that they were scaling. Nodding, Con instantly handed Yamcha a pistol, tossing it to him. Yamcha knew how to work the gun, thankfully; in a few seconds, he was right alongside Con, shooting zombies with him, trying to aim for their heads.

He didn't notice the single zombie that strayed from the group until it was too late. He couldn't react as the zombie also pounced on him—but this one took a huge bite from his shoulder.

Yamcha screamed in pain as he felt the rotten, mottled teeth sink into his skin with sudden force—they felt like they were lined with acid as well, pain shooting through his system. Instinctually, his arm flew out, and punched the zombie. The punch thrown was hard enough to make an odd, terrible crunching sound as his fist connected with what was left intact of this zombie's skull, and the monster flew away from them with the force of it.

Once that certain zombie was gone, Yamcha lightly staggered on his feet, his knees nearly giving out as he clutched his shoulder. Con turned and saw that Yamcha had been bitten, and instantly went up alongside the former bandit to help him balance. Gratefully, Yamcha wrapped an arm around Con's shoulders, the arm with the bitten shoulder hanging lip and useless next to him as he clenched his teeth against the pain and weakness. He was losing blood fast—the zombie had managed to hit a main artery—and it looked like it was slightly infected, too.

"It's no good; we're surrounded," Con informed the rest of his team through the mic. For now, the only choice was to retreat. It was either that, or death.

Con grew slightly uneasy when he didn't truly gain a reply—it was almost as if their mics had been destroyed. "King Furry," he began, "can you hear me?" He was now nearly desperate to hear one of his men's voices.

"We're overrun!" another soldier yelled back over the microphone—Con was relieved that they were still alive, continuing to listen. "King Furry, get out of here!"

If the soldier had anything else to say, they would never know it—for suddenly, blood-curdling screams of terror and agony were heard downstairs, crying and curses as well. The sounds of dying men. Then, all the human sounds—the crying, the screaming, the cursing—fell silent. These sounds were then replaced with an odd sound, like wet mouths chewing loudly.

Con hung his head slightly, holding a moment of silence for his fallen comrades. He silently vowed revenge upon these monsters—even though he knew it was just about hopeless, his comrades in the ranks had deserved more honorable deaths than getting bitten, and then having their flesh feasted on. Now, their families wouldn't even be able to see the bodies.

However, there would be more time to mourn later, the sound of rapid thudding directing both Yamcha and Con's attention to the stairs below them. There, King Furry was running up the stairs as fast as he could, continuing to cast anxious glances behind him, still shocked at the disgusting sight that he'd seen, feeling that those men hadn't deserved to die at that point and in such a brutal manner.

Yamcha, with a considerable struggle, went up to the king. "Grab my hand," he said quietly to King Furry, wincing once more in his pain, biting his lip. Con also went up and grabbed King Furry as well, so that their hands were now linked—the zombies drew closer by the second. Yamcha then raised his ki with considerable effort, and began to float up the stairs. Of course, both Con and Furry were slightly surprised at this as they began to float, too, but Con had supposed that he'd seen many weird things serving in the military, and the King had seen many odd things simply by being the king of the Earth.

The moment Yamcha saw an exit, he grabbed the two men, and jumped out of the window that he'd seen. The zombies behind them let out inhuman cries and moans at the fact that they'd lost someone, their sickly, grey arms reaching out to the three figures who'd managed to leave. Yamcha didn't stop to look back, and continued to fly until they reached the border of Central City, hissing with his pain as he landed, blood steady trailing down his back and chest from his shoulder bite.

"King Furry, are you okay?" one of the soldiers that had been waiting there asked, as King Furry was led into a room, where he was able to calm down. Con helped the King inside, and to answer the soldier's question, Furry nodded dismissively.

"Does anyone know who did this?" Furry asked, while he was getting inspected by a medic that had been recently called to check on him.

"No, sir," another soldier answered, hanging his head at how many men they'd lost that day. All the soldiers had a moment of silence for their fallen comrades in the ranks, who deserved proper burials. "But the odd thing is that everyone that attacked us was…_dead_. People with missing arms, missing chunks of skin, and a sickly complexion would run at us. They seemed unstoppable and relentless—bullets didn't affect them in the least. We would have been overrun, but then we heard Con announce that headshots killed them, and we began to use that to our advantage."

"King Furry, how did you escape?" another soldier inquired curiously. "It sounded like you were overrun…was only Con with you?"

"We had another that saved us," the King answered quietly, and then his eyes widened as he turned to look for their savior, but was unable to find where the scar-faced man had gone. "Where is he?" he asked aloud, while the soldiers shrugged. Con, though, was also wearing a confused look on his face, looking around for his temporary ally.

Unbeknownst to them, Yamcha had flown off after seeing that the King was now safe. He hissed in pain, clutching his shoulder, feeling his warm blood reaching his fingers, knowing that he needed medical attention, and that he needed it _quickly_ as well. He was losing far too much blood, and he honestly wasn't sure how much longer he could last before he passed out cold.

His sights were set on Capsule Corporation, hoping that Bulma would be able to help him somehow.

* * *

Yamcha finally managed to land on the Capsule Corporation lawn. The flying had taken far more out of him than he had expected, and he staggered towards the large door, his vision swimming and fuzzy, often turning black for a few seconds, feeling lightheaded. Barely even conscious anymore, he managed to get to the door, and knocked on it as much as he could—it was more like he _thumped_ it with his fist. His other hand continued to grip the shoulder that was oozing blood at a rapid pace, and his vision suddenly swam as he hit the door one last, weak time.

And then, he abruptly collapsed, his foot slipping in the blood, his vision fading away to abrupt blackness as he finally, thankfully, lost consciousness, drifting away into the peaceful oblivion of the unconscious world.

Mirai was the one who answered the door, since, at the time, he was the one who had been closest to the door. He'd been sitting in the living room, reading a novel absentmindedly on the sofa, before he'd heard someone thumping on the door. Calling out to anyone who could hear him that he would get it, he went up and opened it. To say he was surprised when he opened it would be an understatement—he'd thought it was simply one of his mother's coworkers, or someone that she was going to have a meeting with.

"Holy crap," Mirai muttered, seeing Yamcha collapsed on their doorstep, lying in a pool of his own crimson blood. His skin seemed unnaturally and unhealthily pale, and there was a horrid wound on his shoulder. "Mom!" he then shouted, turning around to face the interior of the house. His mother had been the second-closest person to the door, and she had begun to get ready to go up to it and answer it, but he'd said that he'd gotten it. Now, though, he knew that she needed to be here. "You have to come see this, quick!"

A moment later, Bulma came out of the room that she'd been in. "What is it, honey?" the heiress asked, walking towards the open door and to her son from the future. Mirai noticed that Trunks was following their mother, and, before Trunks would be able to see the collapsed Yamcha outside, Mirai lightly blocked his view with his body, before saying something quietly in Trunks' ear, a slightly strained smile on his face. The little boy grinned at whatever his big brother had said, and then dashed back into the interior of the house. Unsure of what had happened, Bulma looked at her eldest son, confused, before she turned and saw what was outside. Her eyes widened in shock, and she let out a small gasp of horror.

"Quick, get him to the infirmary," she told Mirai, who instantly obeyed her command, picking up the unconscious man in his arms, feeling some of the warm blood already soak his clothes lightly. "I'll go and prepare for surgery," Bulma continued, biting her lip as she walked purposefully down the hall, needing to find her husband at the moment. She went up to large G.R., and banged on the door repeatedly, screaming her husband's name again and again.

A few seconds later, the low humming sound that indicated that the gravity had been enabled stopped. Then, Vegeta opened the door to the Gravity Room, lightly soaked with his sweat, only clad in his spandex shorts and a pair of sneakers. He crossed his arms against his bronze chest, which was littered with the numerous scars that he'd gained from both battles and torture that he'd endured.

"What do you want, woman?" Vegeta asked gruffly, wanting nothing more than to continue his training. Now, if she had interrupted him for…_certain_ reasons, he wouldn't have cared at the fact that she'd interrupted him. However, he guessed that this wasn't one of those exact situations, and he was correct.

"Vegeta, we need your help," Bulma said quietly. "Yamcha's hurt badly, and we need a Senzu bean for him"

"What happened to the pathetic weakling?" Vegeta asked, curious on what could actually hurt someone as strong as him on this mudball of a planet. Of course, he knew that the scar-faced bandit's power was completely pathetic compared to his own, and to most of the other fighters in their group of oddballs, but he was much, much stronger than the average human.

"I don't know," his wife answered honestly, "but we found him at the door, lying unconscious in a pool of his own blood." Her blue eyes were worried for her friend, and that was all she said before she rushed towards the infirmary. Wondering what could possibly have his woman so worked up, he followed her, just to see how badly the human weakling was injured. As he walked into the room behind his wife, he was surprised at what he saw.

The boy from the future was already there (he'd changed his clothes quickly after they'd gotten stained in Yamcha's blood, and was now wearing a white tank top with a red Capsule Corp. logo on it, and a pair of dark blue jeans), standing next to Yamcha, who was lying on the white hospital bed. His blood had already stained the pristine white sheets, seeping through his clothing at a dangerous rate. His lightly tanned skin was coated with a thin sheen of sweat, his breathing slightly ragged even in his unconsciousness. He was white as a ghost, deathly pale, and was missing a rather large chunk out of his shoulder, as if someone had just freaking _bitten_ it. It also looked slightly infected through the blood, Vegeta's critical eyes assessed, seeing the light ring of odd gray discoloration around the wound.

"Mirai," Bulma whispered to her son, fretting lightly over Yamcha, "make sure that Trunks doesn't come in here. Can you bring him to Goten's?"

"Sure thing, Mom," Mirai answered with a nod, before he went to the door of the room. As he entered the hallway and closed the door behind him, he called out his little brother's name. "Hey, Trunks!"

The little boy arrived almost instantaneously, having heard his name. "Yeah?" he replied with an eager grin. Seeing the stance that Mirai was taking, he looked at the door oddly, before he tried to go past the door and into the room, his curiosity getting the better of him. Why did he feel his mother and father's energies in there, his mom's seeming to be tainted with worry?

"Were going to see Goten," Mirai explained, gently drawing Trunks' attention away from the room, trying to direct him in the opposite direction. He didn't need to resort to physical moving, however; the moment that Trunks heard that he was going to his best friend's house, he instantly grinned and let out a happy whoop.

"Yay!" Trunks exclaimed happily, pulling Mirai towards the door of their house. When they reached the door, Trunks scampered onto his older counterpart's shoulders, causing a small smile to reach Mirai's features as Trunks lightly held him under his chin. Mirai grabbed Trunks' ankles, making sure that the boy wouldn't fall off of his shoulders, before he blasted off, the little boy laughing in glee.

Bulma heard them leave, and let out a sigh of relief. Once she knew they were gone, and that her precious baby wouldn't have to see this, she prepared to start the surgery, getting white gloves to put her hands in to protect them. She began to get all the necessary appliances and tools, but before she could do so, Vegeta spoke up, lightly grabbing her wrist to stop her from moving.

"Woman, Scarface is dying," he told her bluntly, no trace of true remorse in his voice. Seeing Bulma's blue eyes begin to fill up with tears at that as she cast a look towards her friend, he shook his head and let out a slight sigh—the sight of those tears always somehow managed to undo him. "Look, woman. His ki is dropping far too fast to possibly stop it." She bit her trembling lip, still looking at her ex-boyfriend's face. Sure, she may have hated the guy a few times, but Yamcha had always been a constant, even when their relationship had ended for good. Vegeta didn't know what to say, and opted to stay silent.

"Why don't you tell me why it looks like his missing chunk is infected?" Vegeta asked her, causing her red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes to flash to him in surprise, before she followed the pointing of his fingers. Yamcha's arm was slowly beginning to turn…gray. A sickly gray color that was even worse than that of a corpse.

And a few moments later, the steady beeping of the heart monitor that was keeping track of Yamcha's heart-rate dropped, only hearing the dull ringing sound of flatlining, and his ki disappeared from existence.

* * *

"You're going to love Goten," Trunks eagerly told Mirai, leaning down lightly as he held onto the strong jaw of his older counterpart, still riding on the teenager's shoulders as they traveled to Goten's house. Their blue eyes met while Trunks performed the action, before the little boy eagerly continued to speak. "Sure, he _is_ a little thickheaded, but he's nice."

Mirai grinned a bit. "He sounds nice. Hey, do you think that Gohan's there?" Mirai asked. He would really want to see Gohan again, and had no doubt that he would be so different from the little nine-year-old boy that he'd met not too long ago. Seven years had passed in this timeline since he'd arrived, but it had been a few mere months in his time. It would be nice to see Gohan again, he mused, along with everyone else besides his family.

"He should be," Trunks replied absentmindedly. "He usually is. If he isn't, then he's out with some girl, or training with his dad or Piccolo."

Mirai snickered at the first suggestion that Trunks had said, before he landed in the front yard of the Son residence. Trunks hopped off of his shoulders, before going up to the door and knocking on it.

Not even five seconds later, a little boy younger than Trunks threw the door open. Mirai's first thought was that this boy was Goku's clone—Goten got that a lot from everyone else. His eyes landed on his best friend, and he yelled out, "TRUNKS!" before tackling the other little demi-Saiyan. The two best friends embraced and did an intricate-looking handshake, before Goten finally caught sight of Mirai. Upon seeing the slightly intimidating-looking teen, he backed up slightly, a bit frightened.

"Trunks?" Goten whispered, his eyes slightly fearful as he looked at Mirai some more. "Why's there another you here, but bigger?"

"Who's there, Goten?" Goku asked, walking up behind his son, who instantly lightly his behind his father's leg, grabbing onto the orange _gi_ pants and peeking out at the stranger from behind his Daddy's leg. However, Goku grinned brightly when he saw Mirai.

"Hey, Mirai! Long time no see!" Goku laughed. "Why're you here?" Then, his gaze became serious, his onyx eyes darting around the room, as if sensing an unforeseen danger. "Is there another threat?"

"No, Goku, everything's fine," Mirai replied, easing the man's worries instantly. He then went on to the real reason that he came here, and the familiar grief, sorrow, and guilt came over him as he spoke. "Everyone in my time died from an explosion, so I came here." He shook his head to clear the vivid memories once more, before he quickly changed the subject. "Hey, is Gohan here?"

Goku, realizing that the topic was a painful one for Mirai to discuss, did not question the abrupt change in subject. "Yeah," he answered. "He's in his room doing some homework. You can go and say hi to him if you want." He then pointed in the direction of Gohan's room, inviting both of the lavender-haired boys in. Trunks instantly went off to play with Goten, while Mirai followed Goku's finger and the familiar energy—much stronger, but still familiar—of Gohan.

Eventually, he reached Gohan's room. There, the black-haired teenager was doing his homework intently, his fingers typing away at a keyboard, his onyx eyes glued to the screen, not noticing Mirai yet. The boy from the future smirked, and Gohan, sensing another's presence in the room, turned around cautiously. His jaw just about dropped open, and Mirai returned his gaze with amused blue eyes.

"Hey, Gohan."

* * *

Yamacha: You killed me off

Cap42: With good reason

Next time on The Walking Z a survivor's story: How will Gohan react to seeing Trunks? Will Yamacha attack Bulma and Vegeta when he becomes a Zombie? And what will happen to the soldiers that will have to fight all the zombies about to flood out of the city towards the outlands? Found out all of these next time.

**And…wow, this chapter got REALLY long! Whew! I'm done! :D this is RaiynetheHedgehog, signing out! Please review for the amazingly awesome Cap42 and for me! XD**


	4. Con The Ultimate Survivor

To Chaos267: I wanted to keep Yamacha around but decided that he would die instead of Tien. Originally I was going to kill Tien off and keep Yamacha but you will why I changed it later I believe.

To Marlen2445: Update your story I want to know what will happen next.

I don't own anything but Yamacha the zombie and Con.

**And I own TICKETS FOR WICKED! :D just got them today! :D Well, guys, hope you enjoy the chapter! :D**

* * *

"Soldiers," Con began, looking at all of the soldiers preparing to defend the border of Central City; his green eyes were serious as he addressed them. "We are about to face the biggest threat to Earth since Cell. Remember, the only way to kill these things is to shoot them in the head—if you manage to get their head, then they're gone. We believe that there are around five million people infected within the city. If this gets out, the whole planet can be at stake." Everyone realized how serious the situation was, and they all nodded.

It was then that everyone heard the unearthly wailing, all of their eyes snapping towards the sudden surging waves of the zombies in the distance. They all exchanged glances, exchanging good luck between each other, some of them praying, some of them simply hardening their features.

"Get ready; here they come!" Con yelled to them. In instant response, the soldiers pumped their weapons into the air, releasing a cheer that showed that they would not ever go down without a fight, before going to the wall, taking aim at the large surges of zombies that were slowly but surely making their way towards them. Con grabbed his shotgun and assault rifle, walking in between two soldiers, waiting for the zombies to come within shooting range.

The moment he was clearly able to see the zombies, Con yelled and shot the first one he saw right in the eye, causing that leading zombie—both of its arms missing, barely any skin left on its body, and pale, creepily seemingly sightless eyes that had been looking in two opposite directions—let out a cry of agony as it fell to the ground, dead. Inspired by this, the other soldiers also began to shoot the thousands of zombies that swarmed in. They seemed to be simply a large mass of gray skin, bodies, and limbs, and they were relentless in their approach.

"Hold formation!" the general yelled over the microphone, speaking to the soldiers that were in his sector to protect. The soldiers all over the barrier said and yelled various things as they fought off the zombies in the area. Some of them cursed furiously at the monsters, some of them let out cries of triumph when they managed to kill one, and some of them simply thanked their deity for granting them victory.

King Furry was within the fray, too. And it was the worst mistake he could have made at the moment.

Nobody noticed as King Furry was suddenly bit on his arm by a zombie, letting out a scream. However, there were so many screams that they were unable to tell who had been the cause of that shriek. Pulling out the small shotgun that he had, he managed to shoot the zombie in the head. Then, he collapsed, starting to cough up blood as he grabbed his bloody arm in pain, hissing through his teeth.

"Choppers 1 and 2, we request help in Sector Three. There's been an enormous surge of them, and we don't know of we'll be able to kill them all. We need backup, pronto!"

"Roger that, T-minus 2 minutes," Pilot One said, as both he and Pilot Two started their choppers, and began to lift off in the air.

"Be careful out there, Con," Pilot Two said gently—the owner of the voice was obviously a female. "Promise me that you'll be careful?"

Con sighed, listening to his wife's voice, allowing it to temporarily soothe him, even in the midst of battle, as he crouched down to take a breather. "Yes, Jennifer, I promise," he replied quietly, before he smirked a bit. "But what if trouble comes to me?"

She huffed, causing Con to laugh a bit, imagining the way that she looked right now. Jennifer, his beautiful wife, probably was slightly annoyed at him—her wavy blond hair, which fell like a golden waterfall down her back, would frame the beautiful, pale features on her face. Pink lips, perfectly plump and well-shaped, would be pursed lightly as she frowned a bit at him. The most attractive thing about her would be her eyes, framed with long, dark blond lashes. Those beautiful, warm, dark chocolate-brown eyes, always filled with life, the eyes that she'd passed onto their daughter.

"If trouble comes to you, Con-Con," Jennifer returned, smirking at the nickname slightly, "then I suggest you try and avoid it at any costs."

"I _told_ you not to call me that in public," Con grumbled lightly, hearing her laugh a bit on the other end. The sound of her laughter soothed him slightly, and he couldn't help but instantly let go of his slight irritability at that, and continued to speak in tandem with her last statement. "And that's a good idea; no wonder you're so smart," Con joked, and Jennifer couldn't help but laugh once more. Then, Con became serious again, just as Jennifer was beginning to lift off into the air. "I love you," he told his wife gently, sincerely.

"And I love you, Con," she returned, just as gently, just as sincerely, before she and Pilot One were completely lifted off of the ground, the choppers now hovering in the air.

As they lifted off, they suddenly spotted King Furry, who was rapidly puking up blood. His lungs struggled for air, and he coughed, his lungs unable to draw in any more air. Soon, his breathing stopped altogether, his eyes glazed, staring ahead at nothing.

"Con, King Furry is acting odd," Pilot One noted. "Get a medic to check him out." Then, he and Pilot Two, Jennifer, flew their choppers to Sector Three, Jennifer and Con once again saying a final farewell to each other, before the two helicopters disappeared from sight.

Con then grabbed the shoulder of the medic closest to him, causing the young man to turn to the captain with battle scars. Con gently told the medic to check on King Furry, and the medic nodded, looking over at the fallen body of the King, inspecting it. The first action that he did was check for a pulse at the King's neck or his wrist. And he found none.

Unbelieving of this fact, the medic continued to check all the other points where one could feel the pulse of a person—the wrist, the neck, under the chin—checking them once, twice, thrice…but there was nothing. No heartbeat, no pulse. No life.

Over his microphone, the medic informed everyone with great reluctance that King Furry was dead. All of the shocked replies of the soldiers were almost overloading his brain, and he was unable to truly comprehend all that they were saying. He tried to calm them down somehow, but it didn't help all that much.

While he was replying to another person's inquiry—how had King Furry died?—and he said that he didn't know, he didn't notice that King Furry was moving. He didn't realize that King Furry's arm was reaching slowly up towards him, trying to grab his own arm. He didn't see the way that the dead eyes looked at him, and yet, they were undead as well, a chilling sight to behold.

"Come again, Jake. What's the state of King Furry?" Con yelled as he reloaded his shotgun as fast as he could. He shot a zombie right in between the eyes, killing it as he got past other bodies—both fallen bodies of his comrades, who he would mourn later, and of the zombies that they'd killed, which they would rejoice about.

It was then that he heard the scream.

The medic, Jake, had been about to reply, repeating the fact that King Furry was dead. However, the King had suddenly grabbed his arm, and had bitten Jake in the forearm with as much might as he could muster. Screaming in agony, Jake tried to unlock the hold of King Furry's teeth on his arm, but to no avail. His skin began to turn grey where Furry's teeth met with his arm, and acidic pain shot through him, the likes of which he'd never felt before as he shrieked in agony.

Rapidly, the medic was losing blood, the red substance staining the King's teeth. Suddenly, though, King Furry was thrown off of him, his teeth detaching from his arm, missing a large chunk of his head. Jake weakly turned to see who his savior was, and saw a man with two familiar scars on his face, a puffed one on his cheek to his temple and a dark one along his nose and other cheek, running towards him, shotgun still in hand. His breathing was short and labored, in agonized, small gasps, as he struggled to stay alive, sometimes screaming in agony, sometimes only able to whimper in pain.

"Man down! I repeat, man down!" Con yelled, running towards the screaming medic, going over to the struggling, dying man and supporting him with his arm. He turned around momentarily, to see that King Furry had gotten back up—a portion of his skull had been blown off, but he hadn't been shot directly in the head, which meant that he'd only been stunned. Not wasting any time, Con shot him directly between the eyes. Then, he checked the medic in his arms, telling everyone else to stay in formation while he checked on the pained man.

"Are you okay?" Con shouted at Jake over the uproar of the war happening around them—the gunshots, the screams, the cries, the curses, everything. Soon, however, Con realized that he was dead—he'd lost too much blood from his wound, and there was no pulse.

Having a brief moment of silence for his fallen comrade, he got back into his formation, shooting zombies when they started to get within ten feet of the barrier, along with the other soldier that stood by his side. Soon, he began running out of ammunition for his shotgun, and in a blink, he switched to his assault rifle, checking on how many magazines he had left to shoot with.

Nobody noticed the undead medic until he was upon them.

Jake, the medic, suddenly grabbed another soldier, biting his neck fiercely, causing the soldier to shriek in pain as the feeling of poison began to travel through his veins and he began to lose blood rapidly from his neck. It repeatedly spurted out of his wound, spurting in time with his heartbeat. The man fell to the ground, writhing in his pain, while the now-zombie medic led a few of the other monsters to the place where all the soldiers were, causing a break in their formation. When he let out an inhumane cry of bloodlust, many of the other walking dead appeared behind him, swarming the area.

"All choppers, we need help in Sector One! We are being attacked from both sides; they're going to break through!" Con yelled into the microphone, running to the area that the zombies were surging towards—the small chink in the armor that the medic-turned-undead had revealed to them.

"Roger that, T-minus 5 minutes," was his reply from Pilot One, the leader of the pilots. "Hold tight, Captain!"

"Con, _don't_ do anything stupid," Pilot Two, Jennifer, pleaded with her husband, her anxiousness in her voice.

"I know already—what are you, my _mother_?" Con replied sarcastically with an eye-roll, causing Jennifer to huff once again as she flew along with the other pilots to Sector One.

"We don't have that long," Con realized, and instantly called to his men. "We have to retreat!"

"What!?" another soldier replied, aghast, reloading his gun. "How can we just _retreat_!?"

"They're going to break through the barrier! We have to fall back for now!" Con shouted. "Come on!"

Most of the soldiers were sensible, listening to Con, retreating deeper into the city. Of course, there were a few men who refused to be moved from their positions, not wanting to retreat believing that they could handle the zombies, and that the others could retreat like cowards if they wanted. Con couldn't help but tell them that they were arranging their own funerals, and made sure that everyone who knew to retreat actually fell back, being the last one to go back.

The army of the terrifying undead broke through the barrier not a few seconds after Con began to run. Turning around, knowing that he should help out the other men who were too stubborn and refused to go, Con was, instead, met with a horrid sight.

The few soldiers who had stood to stand against the zombies let out agonized shrieks of pain, while the monsters pounced on the soldiers, and began to decapitate and eat them. They ripped off their heads, their hands, their arms, and each zombie took a different limb to eat; one of them gnawing on the arm of a man like it was a chicken leg, the other plucking out one of the eyeballs and swallowing it with great relish. It was a sickening sight, and Con knew that, if he survived this, that he was going to go vegetarian for quite a long time.

Con then turned around and continued to run off, knowing that those men were gone, once again having his own moment of serene silence in respect for them. Then, he returned to his duty, covering everyone as they retreated, making sure that they wouldn't get hurt by the zombies. A few other soldiers also held off the zombies from their distance—it was mostly the sharpshooters—before they would continue to run to wherever they were going.

Suddenly, though, Con tripped over something in his path. Unable to stop himself from falling, his head hit a nearby rock, making him pass out instantly—it was amazing how his skull hadn't split open. The army of the walking dead wasted no time in beginning to swarm around him, eager to feast on another man's flesh or add to their ranks.

"Con is down! We're going for him," a soldier said, his comrades currently surrounding him. This certain soldier was very intimidating. Standing at six feet four inches tall, he was extremely muscular and buff. Jet black hair was on his head, and was a medium length, just above the nape of his neck, and stick straight. His jaw was extremely large, his features extremely sharp and angular, and also had a pair of determined blue eyes. Like a few of the other soldiers, he also had scars on his face. One dark scar ran jaggedly across his forehead, another one crossing the bridge of his nose, and finally a slash on his cheek.

The soldiers all looked at each other, and nodded. They charged at the zombies, quick and ferocious as could be, just trying to distract the undead army. As they began to shoot the monsters and distract them, the one who had spoken ran into the fray to grab Con's limp form. After he called out to his comrades that he'd managed to get him, they all fell back as much as they could. However, another wave of undead appeared in the opposite direction, cutting them off. Desperately, the soldiers ran into a building, blocking the door off with whatever they could find, barricading themselves within it.

"Con! Con, can you hear me? Con? Somebody check to see if he's injured," the buff soldier said, prompting one of the soldiers who also had medical practice to check on the Captain. A few of the other soldiers ran to the door, holding it shut against the sudden pounding of the walking undead terrors outside of the door, as they tried to break into the building, letting out those inhumane screeches.

"Ryan, we have to leave him," another soldier shouted at the buff one who had carried Con into the room. "We're getting overrun!" Just as he spoke, the thumping and other sounds of the zombies trying to break in grew louder, and soon, the window began to crack slightly under the pressure that they were exerting.

It was then that Con began regaining consciousness—blinking fuzzily against all the noises that were causing his eardrums to pound, he opened his eyes, forcing himself to sit up. Eyes darting around, he searched for the closest weapon, having gained his consciousness and his bearings as quickly as he could, adrenaline surging through his veins. Still unable to stand—too dizzy to do so—he grabbed the weapon, and turned to face the soldiers who were surrounding him.

"Con, we're trapped inside in the barracks," the extremely buff soldier, Ryan, told the Captain, looking around vainly for a way to get out that wouldn't give them certain death.

"The secret exit," Con managed to get out, trying to stand up. After his head swam once more, vision blacking out for a moment, he consented to getting only to his knees, crawling lightly as he looked for the secret exit that would take them out. He knew this building—he knew its secrets. There was a way out, he just knew it, he only had to find it…

"What secret exit?" Ryan asked, watching as Con forced himself to stand up on slightly shaky legs, stumbling slightly as black spots appeared in front of his eyes. He then found it—a small, wooden door in the floor, leading to the basement, hidden by a few crates. The only thing visible at the moment was the corner of the door, and, with the help of Ryan and another soldier, they managed to shove the crates away, revealing the door completely. Ryan tried to open it, pulling on the metal handle, but it wouldn't budge.

Not wasting any time, Con pulled out his gun, and shot the wooden door rapidly to break it. After a few shots, the material gave way, and Ryan smashed the hole in with his foot, making one big enough for the men to be able to fall through.

It was also the moment when the zombies managed to break a hole in the door of the man entrance, hundreds of sickly grey arms managing to break through at the same moment. The hungry, greedy arms grabbed for the soldier that had been standing guard at the door, barricading it, along with his partner. Both of the men let out cries of pain, one of them vainly shooting around, trying to reach the zombies. As he shot blindly, however, he nicked another soldier in the arm, causing the man to lightly hiss in pain as he grabbed his bleeding shoulder.

This caused the walking dead to suddenly let out cries of their own, the cry before a feast, as they smelled the fresh blood pouring from a live being. This was the final motivation that they needed to completely break down the door, and began to flood into the room, slowly but surely making their way towards the rest of them. Con tried to rally the men together, but some of them were running off in different directions, trying to escape the dead, even though he tried to direct them towards the secret exit.

However, only two made it to the secret entrance—Ryan and another soldier. Con desperately tried to get to the other men, but they were all cornered, or he couldn't see them. Unable to do anything else to help his men—he was just about out of ammo, and those few precious bullets that he had left wouldn't be able to kill all of these monsters—he lowered his head, before he jumped down into the secret exit as well, bending his knees upon the impact of his landing. He lightly stumbled, his bearings not completely regained yet, but he stood up as quickly as he could.

He exchanged a look with Ryan and the other soldier (who was holding his arm, a small trail of blood trickling down from his shoulder), their faces grim, all knowing that he others were trapped up there. There was no time to mourn the deaths of those brave souls, however, all three of them knowing that they had to get moving—surely, the zombies would find this place, and would not hesitate to follow all three of the men.

It was hard for them to move, though, when they heard the piercing shrieks of agony that the men let out as they were ripped limb from limb and then devoured by the flesh-eating monsters.

Trying to divert the other two's attention from that, Con lightly cleared his throat. "We're the last three soldiers left in the sector," he announced, the truth weighing even heavier on his heart as he realized just _how_ many men had been lost that day. The time for sadness would be later—for now, he had to get however little of them that were left to safety. "We have to get out of here," he continued, looking into the darkness ahead of them with hardened green eyes. Through their microphones, they were able to hear static on the other end—they knew that if they didn't get out fast enough, that they would be left to fend for themselves; everyone else would have been ordered to leave for their own safety.

"Con, let's hurry," Ryan told him, placing a hand on the man's shoulder—Con was still having a hard time breathing and focusing from his hit on the head, and from moving so much after he'd quickly regained consciousness. However, there was no time for weakness now, and Ryan knew that, and he knew that Con needed to get out of there alive. "I heard that we have five minutes to get to the Extraction Zone, or they'll leave without us. Your family needs you, Con, you can't give up now; you can make it." At this, he gently, nudged Con forward, prompting the captain to run along with him—albeit with a struggle, wheezing and often fumbling over his feet—and the other soldier, jogging down the tunnel.

Slowly, after a few agonizingly quiet minutes of anxiety, they were able to see light in the distance. All three of the men were relieved, spirits lifting as they ran the slightest bit faster towards the light, their ray of hope.

Right as they reached the sunlight, they ran outside, to see that a large horde of zombies was chasing the group of soldiers that they had left back in the barracks. The three men exchanged glances, knowing that they had to help their comrades, and changed their direction so that they would be able to help the others fight the zombies. As they ran, they saw one of the choppers in the distance.

"Con, Ryan," the other soldier with them croaked out, "go. I've been bitten by one of them; I'll cover your escape." As he spoke, he removed a trembling hand from his shoulder, where a very small bite-mark was—the monster that had attacked him had only managed to get a few teeth in, not a full-on bite. The edges of the bloody wound were tinged the hideous gray color of the skin of the zombies. Con and Ryan both nodded at him, thanking him for his service, before they both continued to run towards the helicopter, while the soldier bravely met his fate. He stood his ground, shooting zombies in the head when they got too close for comfort, knowing that he would soon be joining their ranks if the infection spread, which he was sure it would. He just hoped that he wouldn't be the one to attack Con or Ryan, when he became one of the walking dead.

As both Con and Ryan ran to the other soldiers to help them out, the one that had been shot by the soldier in the shoulder by accident before finally collapsed from the blood loss, unable to maintain his consciousness. Instantly, another soldier turned around, eyes widening as he ran back to the fallen man and tried to pick him up and carry him to the chopper, but suddenly, the leading zombie reached him and pulled him away from the fallen soldier. Right before the helping soldier was about to get bitten in the neck as he struggled vainly in the grip of the monster, a gunshot was suddenly heard, and the soldier turned around to see that the zombie had a hole shot right in between his eyes, falling to the ground, dead. The one who'd shot him was Con, as he ran up to the soldier who was still alive, the other one having been swarmed by the zombies as they feasted upon his flesh.

"Soldier, are you okay?" Con asked him, shooting any of the undead that got to close for his liking.

"It was chaos," the soldier, whose name was Andrew, answered, his voice slightly trembling with emotion and exhaustion. "We couldn't find you, so we ran out the back door—the zombies, for some reason, had left—and fought our way through to here." His eyes then darted back towards the fallen soldier, tear brimming lightly in his eyes, unable to stop the wave of emotion that hit him. "He was so close to getting out…his name was Michael." He didn't care if Con was there, didn't care if he was listening. Someone deserved to know about the fallen soldier. "He…he was my older brother."

Con was filled instantly with compassion for this man—he couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose his wife or his daughter. He reassuringly put a hand on the trembling man's shoulder, both of them silent for a few moments in respect for the soldier who had died, before Con allowed Andrew to lean on his own shoulder.

"It's okay," he reassured him. "We're almost there; let's hurry." As he spoke, he lightly began to jog with the grieving man, who barely even registered what was happening as he ran to the helicopter. Con let go of the soldier for a few moments, hopping onto the chopper to grab onto the minigun, and covering other soldiers that were reaching the chopper from other directions.

"We have to go. We're overloaded," the pilot announced to everyone, before he lifted off. Con caught sight of both Ryan and Andrew still on the ground, the latter still grieving for his brother in silence, staring at nothing. Knowing what he had to do, Con quickly grabbed one of them at a time, first taking Andrew, and then Ryan, and dragged them onto the copter. Then, knowing that he had to see this through to the end, he jumped out of the chopper, shouting at Ryan to make sure that Andrew would be all right, before he ran back in the direction of the battle.

As he ran, he found a shotgun abandoned on the ground. He quickly picked it up and checked how much ammo was in there, and was relieved to see that there seemed to be just enough to hold off quite a few of these relentless creatures.

"Get into the building! _Now!_" Con shouted to the soldiers. "Wait for the next chopper to come!" They all obeyed his orders without question, many groups going into separate buildings, since the groups were sparsely scattered around the bloody battlefield. Con's sharp green eyes searched for any stragglers, and he saw another medic suddenly get attacked by a zombie, the monster leaping onto his back and clinging to him with clawed fingernails. Instantly, he took precise aim, even from his distance, and gave the zombie a clean headshot, killing it instantly. Con could proudly state that he was the best sharpshooter on the team, almost _never_ missing a target.

He ran over to the medic, who was gasping lightly in pain from where the monster's claws had dug into his skin. He shoved the medic in the direction of the nearest building, and the man stumbled there, running as fast as he could in his injured state, while Con continued to look for the people who were unconsciously lagging behind.

"Chopper 2, we are at Extraction Zone Delta," he said, knowing that this certain plea would be answered. While he spoke, he shot another one of the undead people who had tried to bite another soldier, who had already fallen to the ground in pain from a stray bullet wound. Quickly, Con knelt down next to him, checking his pulse; it was weak, and he hauled the man over his shoulder, feeling the hot blood trail down his back—this man didn't have much time left. "We have survivors over here; hurry, please! We don't know how longer we can last at this rate!"

"Roger that, Con, I'm coming," Jennifer replied instantly, while she directed her chopper towards the Extraction Zone that her husband was at. "Arrival time in T-minus four minutes. Just hold tight, honey."

"All right—be careful, Jennifer," Con told his wife gently—her soothing voice helped calm him down at the moment as he stood up, adjusting the medic's position on his shoulder.

"Am _I_ the one currently in the middle of the battlefield with a bunch of zombies?" she replied, incredulous at how he could possibly be worried about her for the moment, shaking her head. "Get into cover as quickly as you can. I love you, Con."

"And I love you, Jennifer," he replied softly, closing his eyes, before he ran to the closest building, turning around for a moment to aim at a zombie who had tried to sneak up behind him. Killing it instantly with a headshot, he then jogged with his cargo into the closest building, placing the man on the floor, before he ran back outside to pick up the last few people who were struggling.

Because _nobody_ got left behind if he had anything to say about it .

* * *

Gohan simply stared in shock at the teenage time traveler for a few moments, almost unable to process it. Then, he broke out into a huge grin, and instantly, he ran up to Mirai and gave him a huge hug. Mirai wasn't expecting this, and let out a grunt of surprise, the slightest bit uncomfortable, awkwardly hugging Gohan back for a moment. Seeing that his friend was uncomfortable, though, Gohan let go, but that huge grin was still on his face, unable to be wiped off.

"Hey, Mirai!" he laughed happily, almost giddy at the moment—he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to see the teenager from the future again, who had been almost like his older brother for the time that he'd been there. Seeing him again was one of the most pleasant surprised that he could receive. "Why're you here?"

"Accident at Capsule Corp.," Mirai Trunks explained, a slightly strained smile on his face. No matter how many times he felt that he would tell it, he wasn't sure if it would be any easier to reveal the reason why he came back to this time. Sure, he was able to see everyone else alive now, but he was still unable to get rid of the memories that clung fiercely to him. "In my time…well, everyone died but me. I'm not sure about the mere remnants of humans, but there's no resources left after the explosion—they're going to die out soon, and there's nothing I can do to help. I can't plant crops, I can't do anything beneficial, and they were beginning to distrust me. So, I decided to come here." He knew that his entire explanation was unnecessary, but he was sure that Gohan would listen to his whole reason and completely understand. As he said the last part, a light smile graced his handsome features, the carbon copy of his father's.

"Well, it's great to have you," Gohan grinned. "Maybe you can go to school with me." The black-haired teenager sincerely hoped that his friend would be going to the same school as him, if he even decided to go to school. It would be nice to have a friend who actually understood exactly how he felt. Sure, the other humans at school who he was friends with were good friends as well, but Mirai was half-Saiyan, and had gone through many things that Gohan had gone through as well. It would make him feel a little less lost in school.

"Maybe," Mirai replied with a light grin, knowing that he already had to start school tomorrow. Hopefully, he would be going to the same school as Gohan, and share a class or two with the other demi-Saiyan.

"Hey, wanna spar?" Gohan asked, while he walked out of his room. Sure, maybe he didn't like fighting _nearly_ as much as his father or Vegeta, but there was still Saiyan blood flowing through his veins, ringing loud and clear at the prospect of a challenge, onyx eyes gleaming at the idea of sparring with his friend.

Mirai smirked, the action making him look exactly like his father—if his hair had somehow been dyed black and was in a flame shape, and he'd managed to wear black contacts, Gohan was sure that he'd be looking at Vegeta's exact clone, except the slightest bit taller than the eldest, pure-blooded Saiyan prince. "Sure," Mirai agreed, following him out of his room. Gohan went down the stairs, quickly telling his father that he and Mirai were headed into the forest for a quick spar.

Unbeknownst to them, the two teenagers had two smaller shadows following them around as they went outside. Both Trunks and Goten had been listening in on their conversation, and both of them were eager to find out who was the stronger one of the two young men. Both the boys waited in the doorway, seeing Gohan and Mirai conversing a bit, before they crouched, both of them prepared to take off.

"Brother!" both Goten and Trunks yelled at the same time, prompting the eldest demi-Saiyans to turn around to their little brothers. Both of the little boys were wearing bright grins on their faces, and, in a flash, both of them had launched themselves at their respective big brother, tackling them onto the ground with the force of their impact.

"Whoa, kiddo, gimme some warning next time before you do that, huh?" Gohan joked, ruffling the haphazard jet-black spikes of Goten's hair, while the little boy laughed at the action.

"Now, Trunks," Mirai smirked, "didn't Father teach you better tackles than that? You should've done the tackle that would've completely made all of my weight be used against me; that's the most effective one, you know."

"I know, I know," the little lavender-haired prince said, rolling his eyes slightly. "But I didn't _wanna_ do that tackle."

"Oh, I'm just playing with you, squirt," Mirai laughed, giving his little brother a quick noogie, causing Trunks to laugh at both his nickname and at the action that Mirai was doing to him.

Both of the teenagers were chuckling at the antics of their little brothers, before they completely moved the young boys off of their bodies and stood back up. As they did so, Goten turned towards Trunks, grinning brightly.

"I bet my brother's stronger than _yours_, Trunks," Goten told his best friend smugly. "After all, Gohan _is_ the one who beat Cell here—he's the strongest in the universe!"

"Oh, that is _so_ not true!" Trunks instantly shot back, getting defensive of his older self—he didn't even think of Mirai as his older self anymore consciously, having naturally accustomed to his being his older brother. "_My_ brother is the strongest there is!" Then, _very_ maturely, Trunks, stuck his tongue out at Goten, crossing his arms as well for good measure.

"Nuh-uh!" Goten retorted.

"Uh-huh!"

"Nuh-_uh_!"

"_Uh-huh!"_

While the little boys continued their ongoing affirmations and negations, Gohan and Mirai exchanged slightly amused glances at the antics of their younger brothers. Gohan got a genius idea, and grinned as he spoke.

"Well, guys, how about we find out?" he suggested, exchanging another glance with Mirai. The time-traveling teenager took this statement as a challenge, and haughtily smirked at Gohan, and the black-haired young man smirked right back at the elder lavender-haired prince. This was going to be fun. "Follow me."

With that, Gohan launched into the air, Mirai easily keeping pace with him, and Goten and Trunks struggling lightly to keep up with the extremely fast pace of their big brothers.

* * *

As she heard the dreaded beeping of the flatlining, meaning that one's heart has stopped, a certain blue-haired heiress refused to believe that this certain man was dead. Instantly, Bulma rushed over to Yamcha, trying to restart his heart in any way possible, nearly panicking. No, she _wouldn't_ lose another friend!

"Damn it, Vegeta, don't just _stand_ there! Help me!" Bulma nearly shrieked at her husband, whirling on him furiously while she continued to frantically try and restart Yamcha's heart. Vegeta, however, didn't really care about the weakling's condition—he could die for all the Saiyan prince cared. And he _was_ dead, Vegeta knew that. His woman's attempts were in vain. Yet again, though, he saw those blue eyes fill up with tears of desperation, and he sighed, shaking his head.

"Woman, he's gone. The only way to possibly revive him would be through an adrenalin surge, but that could also cement his death completely—too much adrenalin can easily kill him, as weak as he is currently," he said gruffly, inspecting her as she continued to work. She turned towards him once more, glaring fiercely, refusing to believe that her friend would die, but she decided to do what he'd said. Leaving the room, she went to the lab where she kept all the needles—somewhere Trunks would _never_ be able to find them—and began to look for the adrenalin that she had.

Meanwhile, Vegeta stood in the room, still leaning against the wall, absentmindedly having turned towards the door to watch his wife go into the other room where she kept her medicines and needles and all that shit that he didn't care about. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement, and instantly, his head whipped towards the source of the moving.

He got an honest shock when he saw the human man suddenly blink his eyes open, sitting up slowly, as if he was rising out of a grave. Upon seeing this, Vegeta quirked a thick black eyebrow, feeling for the weakling's energy.

And he didn't feel one.

This unnerved him—the only way that something didn't have a power was if it was _dead_. Then how was he still moving? Powering up the slightest bit in caution, he began to walk slightly towards Yamcha to investigate. The human slowly got off of the hospital bed, and then fixed his eyes on Vegeta.

They were oddly chilling—the spark of life within them was gone. Those dark brown orbs stared at Vegeta, seeming sightless, and yet at the same time seeming to see within the depths of the Saiyan's soul. Glazed over and petrified, and yet also burning with fiery intensity—but not the spark of life.

Slowly, Yamcha got up off of the bed, and began to slowly walk over to Vegeta, tilting his head at a slight angle, his mouth slightly open. Vegeta glared right back at the oddly soulless eyes of the man, but Yamcha seemed undeterred in his mission, and came closer to Vegeta. Like an animal, he snapped his teeth at him—his teeth, for some reason, were the slightest bit shinier than before, Vegeta noted, as he kept his distance. He'd only seen eyes like this and behavior like this once before…

"Weakling, I swear to Dende, if you don't say stop acting weird, I will _personally_ introduce you to King Yemma with pleasure," Vegeta growled out bluntly, rather annoyed with Yamcha's odd behavior, still unnerved with the soulless, lifeless eyes. They were unlike any eyes that he'd seen before, having no life, and yet the intensity with which they simply stared at him…

Meanwhile, Bulma heard her husband's words, and, curiously, she walked back into the room, carrying a needle filled with adrenalin in her hand. The sight that she came upon was a curious one—Yamcha was walking towards Vegeta. At first, the only emotion that she felt was relief, and she broke out into a bright smile as she saw that he was all right, that he wasn't dead. She wanted to cry out his name, to leap into his arms and hug him and sob in relief, honestly not wanting to lose another dear friend, but, at the odd look on Vegeta's face, she faltered.

Yamcha sensed Bulma, and suddenly, he changed his trajectory, causing Bulma to finally look into those chilling eyes, those eyes that caused a shock of fear to travel down her spine suddenly. Her blue eyes were now wide, and Yamcha slowly began to walk towards her. Bulma thought that he was just a bit dazed from the loss of blood, and decided to walk closer to him to help him out, smiling a bit.

Vegeta, however, saw the look in those dead eyes, the murderous hunger within those depths. Instantly, he shot a ki blast at Yamcha's neck, causing the man to collapse on the floor suddenly. Bulma screamed in pure horror at the sight, a hand over her mouth in shock, before she turned to her husband, and punched his chest as hard as she could.

"Vegeta! Why would you _do_ that?!"" Bulma shrieked at him, smacking his chest once more, not caring that he hand was now stinging from making contact with his rock-hard skin and muscles. Her eyes were now filling slightly with tears once more, unbelieving as she shook her head and bit her lip. Once again, those tears always wore the stoic Saiyan prince down, and he sighed, grabbing gently onto both of her arms, making sure that she was looking into his eyes. She tried to get out of his grip, making small attempts to get away, but she was unable to do anything to stop him, and made eye-contact with him. His onyx eyes were now serious, and she fought back her tears with great effort.

"Woman, I saw something like this once, on a planet called Xozor," Vegeta explained, slowly and quietly, so that she could understand the situation. "The people would get that odd look in their eyes, and then would eat each other alive. The ones that were bitten but managed to get away would turn into one of them over time, and act like he did. It didn't matter if they made their army bigger or feasted on their flesh—they were an enemy that was unable to be understood at all, having honestly no motives in their destruction."

"So…you're saying that Yamcha would've killed me…if it weren't for you're interference?" Bulma said whispered quietly, suddenly understanding how serious the situation was. She gently reached out to caress his cheek, running her fingers through his thick mane of black hair, and he nodded simply in reply, closing his eyes, bringing his arms down to simply lightly hold her around the waist.

"Thank you, Vegeta," she told him truthfully, reaching up to gently kiss his lips. He returned the kiss, as gently as she had, realizing that, if he hadn't acted, that he could have possibly lost his woman. It was a thought that he did not want to entertain, and he lost himself in the meeting of their lips as they were content to simply kiss for the moment. Soon, they pulled away, with Bulma's blue eyes shining with love, and Vegeta's glinting with slight protectiveness.

"You need to look for a cure to this," he told her seriously. "If Scarface managed to get it, then there are bound to be other cases eventually. A cure would prevent any more humans from being infected." He didn't truly voice his thoughts—but Bulma was able to read him. He wanted to keep them all safe, wanted to make sure that they didn't get this ailment. Nodding, she gently reached up to kiss him one last time, and he allowed it for a few seconds, before they pulled away. Vegeta then allowed his hands to fall, and left the room, announcing that he was going to trail with his eldest son, while Bulma nodded, and her husband left to go do as he'd said.

Then, Bulma went over to Yamcha's fallen body. Anxiously watching him, just in case he wasn't dead, she cautiously got out a box of medical supplies, and then began collecting the DNA that she would need from him to possibly be able to form a cure.

* * *

This is my favorite chapter. Con is based off me so that is why I love it so much plus it's the first real chapter with zombie ownage.

Next time on The Walking Z a survivor's story: Will Con and the soldiers survive until the Chopper gets back? Who is stronger Gohan or Mirai? Where is Videl? Will Bulma find a cure? Find out a few of these next time.

**And this is RaiynetheHedgehog, saying, goodbye, everyone! I hope you guys liked it! :D**

d


	5. Fight!

Dbzgirl2999: Sorry winter break had me away from home a lot. So I'll update now.

If anyone is reading this and didn't read chapter 1 I have a new beta named RaiynetheHedgehog the amazing author of In these Moments.

Disclaimer: I own nothing I don't know about Raiyne though…

**Aw, Cap, you flatter me too much X3 Well, I, RaiynetheHedgehog, now own NON-PERMANENT HAIR-DYE! FINALLY! I'M SO HAPPY! I've wanted to put streaks in my hair for so long, and NOW I CAN! YESH! **

**But other than that, I don't own much. Except a couple of bucks in my pocket here and there, my computer, my iPod, my story (In These Moments)…etc. :D**

**Also, just a side-note for people who've been following this story until now—all of the chapters have now been beta-d by me, so if you wanna go check them out again, by all means, please do so :D (I hope that doesn't make me sound conceited or anything…X3)**

**And now, onto the story!**

* * *

"It has been a week since the attack on Central City—it has also been a week since the deaths of King Furry, and of the famous pro-baseball player nicknamed Yamcha the Bandit," one of the many reporters standing outside of the Satan manor announced, holding the microphone under his chin. "We still have no word from either Mister Satan or the Ox King on their opinions of this matter." On cue, the cameraman zoomed in on the large mansion behind the reporter.

Inside of the large building, Mr. Satan was preparing himself on what to say to the public. He paced lightly, practicing his speech lightly under his breath, getting ready to reassure everyone that everything was just fine. On the other hand, Videl was extremely bored, her cheek in her palm as she simply stared out of the window of her house, looking into the darkness, at the starry night. Absentmindedly, she wondered what her friends were doing, since the whole school was given a week off to mourn King Furry's death.

After taking a breath, preparing himself, Hercule walked out of his home, instantly met with a wave of reporters and cameras. The moment they began to swarm him, however, they were all pushed back in a slightly orderly fashion by a few security guards, while Videl followed behind her father, face impassive, her sapphire eyes uninterested in what was going to take place.

Mr. Satan cleared his throat, which prompted the entire crowd to fall silent, turning towards the strongest man in the world. The reporter nearest to him gave him a microphone, and he took it as he began to speak. "Hello, people of Earth, this is your world savior speaking," he began, puffing out his chest slightly, like a vain peacock preening its feathers. "We may not know what killed the people in Central City—or what exactly _happened_ there—but I promise you that, whatever it is, I'll defeat it for you all." He finished this as he stood tall and proud, making a "peace" sign to the audience, eliciting a few laughs and cheers from the reporters and from audiences in their homes. Seeing him so confident already calmed them down, made them feel much safer, knowing that, as long as he was around, that he would protect them all.

His face then turned serious, as he went to a slightly more pressing matter. "My heart goes out to all the families that lost somebody because of this incident—we send you our deepest condolences. Here to tell you some important news is my daughter, Videl."

Hearing her name, Videl walked up from behind her father, and the microphone was passed to her. "Yes, I do," she affirmed. "My father and I will be giving people who lost everything during the attack a new place to stay, while their homes are being repaired. We'll let children under the age of ten and who have no family into our house, and will be giving supplies and a place to stay right outside of the city limits to the rest of the people." She did feel a bit of sorrow for all the people who lost something during this attack, and realized that she needed to take responsibility. Normally, she'd be a little annoyed that so many kids would be running around the house—however, she realized that some of them might be traumatized or grieving for their lost ones. She'd need to help them—and honestly, kids under age of ten weren't all that bad, all things considered.

After she'd finished with what she'd had to say, she backed away from the microphone that had been held out in her direction. Then, Hercule asked the crowd of reporters, "Are there any questions?"

There was silence for a few moments as the reporters tried to think of what, exactly to ask, but finally, one spoke up. "Mister Satan," this reporter began, almost sticking his microphone in Hercule's face, pushing his way lightly through the throng. "What, exactly do you think _happened_ in Central City?"

As soon as he asked that question, it seemed that all of the other reporters suddenly loosened their tongues, and all began to speak at once, sounding like an incomprehensible muttering as they all tried to suddenly get their own questions answered as well. Mr. Satan held up a hand, and they all grew quiet, slight murmuring still within them as they talked amongst themselves.

"I believe that some lowlife did it," Videl suddenly piped up, answering for her father before he could get to the extended microphone. "Somebody like…those tricksters from the Cell Games, or something, to get revenge on King Furry."

There was a murmuring amongst the reporters, before a single voice broke through the noise again. "Mister Satan, what is your opinion on the Ox King? And why do you think he hasn't given us his _own_ opinion on the matter?"

"I'm sure that he's afraid, just like those tricksters at the Cell Games," Hercule replied pompously, as if he was so much better (when, in reality, _he_ had been the one cowering behind the rock while all that other weird stuff happened. But no one needed to know that.). "So, he's securing the safety of his own kingdom instead of helping everyone else."

Unbeknownst to him, the Ox King himself had heard what he had been accused of, watching the television with his daughter while his son-in-law and grandchildren played outside, having decided to visit his family that day. Upon hearing what Hercule said, the Ox King's gaze became slightly annoyed, and he decided that he would speak about his opinion on this matter tomorrow. He, along with most of the Z-Fighters, had never liked how Hercule Satan was always mocking them and calling them fake. Chi-Chi also heard this, and became infuriated at how Hercule Satan was talking about her family. First accusing her husband and her firstborn son of being tricksters, and then accusing her father of being just as "scared" as them. Furiously, she threw the T.V. remote as hard as she could—it nearly broke upon the impact that it made with the wall.

Another reporter spoke up, this next topic that was going to be brought to the table completely unrelated to what was happening, but a constant source of gossip among everyone. "Miss Videl," he began, before he dropped the bombshell question: "Is it true that you and the Great Saiyaman are lovers?"

At the insinuation, suddenly, a fierce, dark red blush began to cover her cheeks, and she shook her head furiously. "N-no!" she gasped out, the _slightest_ bit too quickly; honestly, though, she was just too shocked to process the information, causing her to lose some of her composure at the moment. "I…I hardly even _talk_ to the guy!"

But after the question, Videl couldn't help but remember the last encounter that she'd had with the newest superhero in town, not only a few days ago, the blush on her cheeks only deepening at the memory.

_"Hey, Saiyaman!" Videl shouted at the odd-looking her, furious at him as he acted like he would just be able to up and leave without an explanation. "I am _not_ done with you yet, mister!" With this, she grabbed at his red cape, determined to stop him for a moment, wanting some answers from him. Surprisingly calm, he turned around, a light grin on his face—she was still unable to see his eyes or his nose, because of the damned helmet that he always wore._

_"Yes, Miss Videl?" he replied—yet again, she couldn't shake the feeling that she'd heard his voice before from somewhere, and the light grin that he was wearing was so familiar that it was almost screaming at her to recognize it._

_"Who _are_ you?" Videl demanded of him, slightly annoyed. This same conversation happened almost _all_ the time between them, whenever they would converse. It sometimes got infuriating, and her face flushed lightly, eyes narrowing and flaring with fire._

_"You know…you're pretty cute when you're angry," Great Saiyaman suddenly said, unable to stop the slight devilish smirk that formed on his features._

_At his abrupt statement, Videl suddenly gaped at him in shock, her cheeks suddenly flushing a deep red at what he'd said. Unconsciously, she let go of his cape, still in a state of pure shock and mortification, and the flamboyant superhero instantly make his leave. _

_"Come back here, you asshole!" she screamed at him furiously, clenching her tiny fists at her sides, her face as red as if she had a sudden sunburn. "I mean it! Oh, when I get my hands on you, Saiyaman…I'm going to _strangle_ you!"_

Needless to say…it hadn't exactly been one of her best moments.

"Sweetie pie," Mr. Satan whispered to her, causing her to snap out of her reverie with a sudden jerk. Her surprised blue eyes met his own matching ones, and seeing concern for her within their depths, she smiled a bit. Sure, she may sometimes have thought her dad was nothing but a pompous and full-of-himself snob, but she loved him no matter what.

"Yes, Daddy?" she answered.

"Go inside and go to bed," he said gently. "You have school tomorrow, and you'll need rest."

Videl nodded, gently kissing her father's cheek before she went inside to begin getting ready for bed. Hercule smiled at her lightly, watching protectively as she went back inside of the house. When the door closed, he turned around, facing the crowd of reporters and newscasters and cameramen, and pointed to the next reporter with his hand up to answer more questions; thus, the intense interrogation began.

* * *

"Gohan, Goten, Goku! Breakfast!" Chi-Chi called, putting the last over-laden plate of food on the third spot at the table, before she began to set up a plate of breakfast for herself. Not even a few seconds after she'd finished her calling, three blurs entered the kitchen, all sitting at their designated seats. Chi-Chi smiled when she noticed that all of her boys were waiting for her to serve herself, but the smile dimmed as she got to a serious matter.

"Gohan, we'll be at Capsule Corp. a while after school today," she told him, her voice quiet. "Yamcha's funeral is going to be held tonight, and we would like for you to be there."

Gohan nodded, his own face slightly grave as well. They'd all gotten the news that Yamcha was dead a week ago, when they'd announced that King Furry had died as well. It had an effect on all of them, even though most of the group hadn't wanted to admit it; the most functional dysfunctional family that resided in Capsule Corp. got a bit closer than they already were, cherishing the moments that they had with each other; the same was with Krillin and Eighteen, who both spent as much time as they could together and with their daughter, Marron; Piccolo began to simply frequent the others, trying to uncover the situation that was going on down on Earth; and the Son family had grown the slightest bit closer as well. It made them all realize that the Dragon Balls wouldn't always be able to bring people back—Yamcha had already died once, and the new Dragon Balls created by Dende couldn't revive a person who already died once before.

Not wanting to dwell on such depressing matters, however, Chi-Chi suddenly directed the males' attention away from the dreary topic by allowing them to eat. A moment after she gave the signal that they could begin eating, her children and her husband all dug into the delicious meal that she had made, eagerly wolfing the food down, inhaling it at a rapid pace. Chi-Chi took her normal place at the table, and ate her simple human-sized portion, while her boys ate an amount of food that would make an all-you-can-eat buffet wonder if they would actually have enough food to feed _one_ of them.

After some small talk between the family, Goten suddenly piped up, having been silent during the entire time simply stuffing his face. "Gohan, can we play after school?" Goten asked, still devouring his huge pile of pancakes, but almost finished with his food. "Oooh, and can Mirai join us in tag? That'll be even _more_ fun!"

Gohan chuckled, standing up to bring his places over to the sink—he'd just finished. Reaching down with one hand as he reached his little brother's spot, he grinned as he affectionately ruffled those haphazard black spikes, causing Goten to giggle lightly.

"Sure thing, squirt," Gohan agreed, dumping his plates in the sink, where his mother began to wash them, having finished her own meal a while before the males in her family. He grabbed his backpack from off of the floor, and quickly gave his mother an obedient kiss on the cheek, at which she smiled warmly at him, before he called his goodbyes and ran out of the door.

Suddenly, he remembered something. "One last thing before I leave—come here, Goten!" he called, grinning.

A few moments later, the little boy appeared right behind him, wearing a smile on his face, quickly wanting to go back to his food, though. "What is it, Gohan?" he asked eagerly. Gohan lightly squatted down in front of him, so that they could be eye-level, and his onyx eyes sparkled.

"Since I haven't taught you how to fly yet," he began, "and I have my Saiyaman outfit, I want you to have Nimbus." With that, the teenager called for the fluffy yellow cloud at the top of his lungs, and a few seconds later, it appeared right in front of both of the boys. Goten stared at it in awe, before he hopped on the cloud—obviously, it carried him, since his heart was probably one of the purest hearts one could find. He laughed eagerly, and Nimbus seemed to like his new master, already taking Goten for a light spin.

"Gohan, thank you so much!" Goten laughed eagerly as Nimbus did fancy swirls and whirls, while Gohan smiled as he watched, already levitating lightly into the air as he prepared to fly to school. "Oh, I'm so excited, this is going to be awesome! I can't _wait_ to show Trunks _this_!"

* * *

"'Sup, Brains?" Sharpener asked as Gohan sat down next to Raiyne, who had smiled upon his entrance; the blonde boy was leaning back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. "How was your week?"

"Good," Gohan returned with a light grin, after exchanging quick pleasantries with Raiyne. Then, he returned the question politely. "How was yours?"

Sharpener shrugged absentmindedly. "Fine, though my parents hated having me in the house for so long," he answered, lightly smirking. "Hey, where d'you think Erasa and Videl are?" At this, he looked around, trying to spot the two girls somewhere. Erasa and Videl were usually _never_ late, and when they _were_ late, they _definitely_ weren't later than Gohan. It was a bit odd, making him wonder what happened to their friends.

"I dunno," Gohan answered honestly, shrugging, "but I did hear that there's new student in class today. Do you know where Videl and Erasa are, Raiyne?" Gohan asked, turning to the girl next to him.

She shrugged. "Nope, no idea. But maybe they're just running late—it happens to everyone, right?"

Just as she spoke, however, the two aforementioned girls ran into the room, both of them scampering up to their seats. They managed to sit down in their chairs with a few seconds to spare, and they shared a triumphant high-five, proud that they'd been able to make it before the bell. They both had woken up late, and as such, had tried to get to school as fast as they could—the fact that they were on time was amazing, and they were both proud of it as well.

Then, the teacher began to speak, causing everyone to turn towards her. "Hello class; today, we have yet another new student. As I've said, it's pretty far in the year, so I expect you all to be nice to him as well. Come on up, Mirai." As she spoke, a teenager who had entered silently came up next to her. His slightly overlong lavender hair was pulled back into a small ponytail, his overlong bangs lightly framing his face and lightly falling in front of his bright, sky-blue eyes. The features on his face were hard and yet graceful, his skin beautifully bronze. He was wearing a black tank top and a pair of faded denim jeans—the black shirt lightly clung to the chiseled muscles on his chest, and his bare arms showed how strong and muscular they were as well. Most of the girls swooned at the sight of him, and Gohan's eyes simply widened in shock.

"Class, this is Mirai Briefs," the teacher said—many of the class instantly wondered if that was any relation to Bulma Briefs, but she only had one son that they knew of, an eight-year-old. They quickly dismissed any theories that they'd had as the teacher continued to talk. "He got outstanding marks on the entry exam, almost as high as our own Son Gohan." She then nodded for him to find a seat among the crowd of teenagers.

"Hey, Mirai!" Gohan called to his close friend—hell, he'd probably consider Mirai his _best_ friend now. He grinned brightly at the lavender-haired prince, and Mirai looked up, and his blue eyes seemed relieved at the fact that he knew someone here. "There's a seat up here!"

Mirai nodded, and walked up to the seat that was available, next to Raiyne. He sat down, nodding lightly at her, and she nodded politely in return, giving him a smile.

"Hey, I'm new here, too. I just came last week," she told him. This statement caused the shadow of a grin to cross his features, and he decided that maybe, just maybe, these humans were all right.

"Mirai…I didn't realize that you would go _here_ when you said that you were going to school!" Gohan exclaimed brightly, surprised. He'd been joking lightly with Mirai when he'd hoped that they had the same classes—he knew that the chances of he and Mirai being in the same high school were rather low. But then again, he had a rather good idea of how he'd been able to come here…

"Well, Mom said that I could pick anywhere to go," Mirai answered (this statement cemented Gohan's theory), "so I picked here. I also have the same schedule as you." This last part was said with a light smirk in the other demi-Saiyan teen's direction. When his mother had told him that he could pick anywhere to go, he had said Gohan's school. However, he had doubted that he would actually get in—he was surprised that the school wasn't completely filled to the brim with students yet. But his mother wasn't a multi-billionaire for nothing—he was sure that she had pulled just the right strings, and when one had that much money, the right strings _always_ managed to be pulled.

While everyone wondered just who Mirai's mother was at that statement, a certain black-haired teenager continued to grin the ever-so-famous Son grin. "This is just awesome, Mirai," he couldn't help but say, Gohan couldn't keep the huge smile off of his face—now, he had someone else who understood him completely, which made everything seem suddenly much, much more endurable than before. School would be a breeze now. Mirai lightly grinned back at Gohan as well, knowing that this school year would be fine since the other half-Saiyan was here as well.

"So, Brains," Sharpener spoke up, looking at Gohan and Mirai oddly, "how do you know him?"

"Well, my mom and Mirai's mom are best friends," Gohan answered with a slight verbal shrug, "so we became best friends, too." It was the simplest explanation, and the only one that anyone else needed to hear. They all seemed to easily accept this fact, and the subject was dropped as a certain bubbly blonde decided to speak up.

"Wow Gohan," she gushed, "your friend is _so_ hot, and so _buff_! Does he have a girlfriend?" As she said this, Erasa looked appreciatively at the eye-candy that was Mirai, her eyes seeming like a pack of wolves as the boy was a juicy piece of meat just laid out in the open for them. Anyone that was listening looked at Mirai—most of the girls (and even a couple of boys) once again swooning upon looking at him, most of the guys eyeing him enviously. Gohan, however, was struggling not to break out into laughter at the appalled look that appeared on the prince's face.

"Um…" Mirai honestly didn't know what to say, struggling to find a different topic for them to be talking about. He did _not_ want all of the attention directed onto him, and vainly searched for a question that would divert the conversation away from him alone, and quickly came up with something. "So, where are you guys all from?"

"We're all from Satan City," Erasa said, gesturing to Sharpener, Videl, and herself. "I moved here when I was really little, and I've known Videl forever—she's always lived here. Sharpener was born here, too."

"Well, you already know where I live," Gohan said in answer, grinning lightly. It was a way for him to participate in the conversation without having to actually say how far he lived from everyone.

"What about you?" Mirai asked, turning towards Raiyne, who hadn't spoken. She'd turned her face away and looked down, her curly dark brown hair covering her face from their view, hoping not to be forced to answer. After a few moments of silence, she brought her head back up to look at Mirai, and he saw that they were…lost, pained. They were a bit shinier than normal, and seemed to be turning red…she looked like she was about to cry. But why?

"I…I moved here recently from Central City. I'm staying here with my aunt. My parents're in the military…my mom flew a chopper, and my dad was a soldier—he had the rank of captain. Both of them…were a few days behind me." Her sentences were short and clipped, but it seemed like she suddenly had trouble breathing as she choked a bit, blinking a lot to get rid of the tears that were collecting within her eyes. Speaking it out loud was so much harder to accept than just hearing about it on the news and drawing conclusions. Her lip trembled, and she bit it to keep it under control. After another lightly choking breath, she looked back up at the teacher, not making eye-contact with any of the other students, staring almost blankly at the board.

As the other teenagers heard this, they were all also quiet, battling with their own emotions. Gohan instantly felt her sadness, empathizing with her; Sharpener, Erasa, and Videl all felt sympathy for the girl, almost able to feel the sadness that she felt; and Mirai instantly felt insurmountable guilt for bringing up the obviously painful subject for her, understanding exactly how she felt at the moment. It was so much easier to keep the possibility of the loss of a loved one to oneself, but to have to say it out loud? It was almost unbearable.

Nobody at the table spoke for a little while, not knowing exactly what to say, while Raiyne struggled to keep the tears in. Suddenly, she raised her hand, and the teacher called on her. Without skipping a beat, she asked if she could be excused to the bathroom, her voice slightly breaking at the end of the inquiry. Without even truly paying attention to her state, the teacher nodded, and as quickly as she could, she ran down the steps and dashed out into the hallway.

Gohan and Mirai exchanged glances over the now empty seat, and Mirai nodded, signaling that he'd be the one to fix it, since it had been his fault in the first place. Gohan nodded in reply, their silent conversation done as they listened to the teacher for a few more minutes. Then, Mirai asked to be excused to the bathroom, to which the teacher allowed him to do without even so much as glancing at him. He then took his leave from the classroom, exchanging one quick glance with Gohan for one more second before he left.

When he got into the hallways, he gently searched for Raiyne's energy—he'd been around it long enough to already distinguish its weak signature from the other humans in here, like he'd also be able to recognize Erasa, Sharpener, and Videl (who had a larger energy than her friends, that was for sure).

Eventually, he came to a boys' bathroom, a large sign that read "OUT OF ORDER—PLEASE USE THE RESTROOM UPSTAIRS". From inside, he heard tiny sniffling, and knew that he was at the right place.

He opened the door quietly, and walked into the bathroom. Following the sound of her quiet sniffles, he went to the end of the stalls and turned—after the last stall, there was a gap between it and the wall. This was where Raiyne was crouched, her knees brought up to her chest, her forehead resting on her knees and her hands clasped about her legs, her curly hair hiding her from view as her shoulders shuddered with their sobbing.

She looked up for a moment, and through her misty tears, she saw a figure, and let out a surprised gasp, her heart rate suddenly speeding up. "Wh-what're you _doing_ here?" she managed to rasp out, voice hoarse from her crying, too shocked to even attempt to wipe her tears away.

"Well, last time I checked, this _is_ a boys' bathroom, right?" he quirked lightly in reply, causing Raiyne to glare at him slightly though her tears.

"Didn't you see the sign?" she shot back. "It says to use the one upstairs."

"Then why are _you_ in here?"

"Because I knew that no one would come in—if they could _read_. Obviously, though, you're an illiterate dumbass and need it spelled out for you."

Mirai couldn't help the light chuckle at her attitude—she reminded him of his mother. "Well, obviously I'm _not_ a dumbass, because I got scores almost as high as Gohan did on the entrance test. You're simply mistaken."

"Go away, asshole. Leave me the hell alone." Her voice was extremely scratchy, showing that she had shed tears, and that she had more to release from her system.

At this, Mirai returned to the matter at hand, and the light smirk that had appeared on his features slowly disappeared. "No, I'm not going away," he said firmly, making her glare more harshly at him. He walked up to her, squatting down when he was a few inches from her toes—he was able to see the trails that the tears had left on her lightly tanned cheeks, able to see how red-rimmed and watery her eyes were, the slightly hopeless and grieving look within her dark brown eyes, along with the anger and annoyance directed at him.

"Look…" He trailed off, sighing lightly as he shook his head. "I'm sorry for bringing that up, okay? I didn't know how much it hurt."

Hearing him apologize made her snap her eyes towards him once more, slightly surprised. Then, her eyes softened the slightest bit. "It wasn't your fault—you didn't know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper now. It was almost as if she hadn't been rather pissed at him a few moments ago. "Hell, they might be alive, but…I…I don't know…the chances…" She bit her trembling lip, a few more tears making their way down her cheeks, the trails of the dried tears seeming more pronounced.

Mirai moved so that he was now sitting next to her on the wall, his back against it as he sat up. In his time, numerous times he'd dealt with orphans, who'd lost their parents to the twin terrors known as Android #17 and Android #18. There were also the times when the children weren't sure if their parents weren't alive—but when the results did come in, often, their parents had passed away. He knew that it was just best to not give his input—he couldn't tell her that he completely understood how she felt, because that would raise a few questions which he would have to skirt around in answering, and he didn't want to do that.

"What're they like?" he asked, making sure to use the present tense to give her hope. She noticed that he was using the present tense as well, and decided to play along with it—it was better to believe that they were alive, even if she wasn't sure if she was pretending or being serious at the moment.

"They're both so brave," she answered, faintly grinning. "Mom was definitely stern at times, but she's just…she's so loving, and beautiful. But she can also be really scary—if someone said crap about either me or my father, she would scream at them like there was no tomorrow."

"Sounds like my mom," Mirai commented, and Raiyne managed a strangled laugh at that. He then nodded for her to continue with her description of her parents.

"She'd always sing me lullabies to go to sleep," the young human woman continued, smiling a bit through her tears. "And her voice was perfect. Dad would sometimes join in, too, making a special moment between the three of us. My Dad…he's the greatest dad in the world. He's a captain in the army—he's extremely brave and noble, full of integrity. He has a few scars from war, but besides that, he's handsome—at least, Mom keeps on telling me that. I remember that sometimes, he'd read me bedtime stories, and I'd sit on his lap. He would sometimes tell me stories of his own, while Mom just read a magazine or something, or made us cookies and hot chocolate. He's always protected me, and taught me most of the fighting that I know, and how to shoot. I love my parents…"

Suddenly, her heart seemed to burst at the moment, and she suddenly reverted back to sobbing, the smile gone from her face now as it suddenly, suddenly hit her that she might not _ever_ see them again. None of that would happen again—she might never hear her mother sing her another lullaby, never hear her father tell another story, his slightly deep voice comforting…

She felt an arm wrap around her shoulders, and she looked up through her blurry tears at Mirai, who was staring straight ahead, acting as if he wasn't doing anything. Taking the offer, she gently leaned on his shoulder, crying into it. She was thankful that someone was here, at least, and that she now had a shoulder to cry on. She could tell that Mirai wouldn't ever tell anyone of her emotional breakdown; she trusted him.

"It'll be all right, you'll see," the lavender-haired boy comforted her gently. She sniffled a bit more, but nodded the slightest bit against his shoulder.

After a few minutes, she regained her composure, and he took his arm from around her shoulders as she lifted her head from his own. She quickly got up and washed her face, cleaning her cheeks of the tracks that her tears had made, trying to get rid of the redness in her eyes. Mirai waited for her, and, when she was finished with fixing her self up, they walked out of the bathroom, Raiyne wiping the last bits of stray tears from her eyes, not wanting anyone else to know about what had transpired in the bathroom.

When they reached the classroom again, Mirai nodded for her to go in first, so that people would be suspicious. As she rested her fingers on the handle, she looked at him—she saw that he was wearing a light smile on his admittedly handsome features.

And Raiyne felt herself lightly, genuinely smile back.

* * *

"So, Mirai," Gohan began with a light smirk, "did you hear about who our new Phys-Ed teacher is?"

He was walking to the gym, along with Mirai and Raiyne. After the incident this morning, the lavender-haired young man and the curly-haired girl both had been absentmindedly talking the whole day, just about inseparable. It had been something that made Gohan smile a bit—Raiyne seemed to be feeling better now about her whole situation, and nobody had brought up the subject again since it had been dropped after she'd spoken. Even now, the two were walking next to each other, Mirai walking next to Gohan while Raiyne was on the prince's other side.

Mirai looked at his best friend oddly, before answering cautiously. "No…" Something was tickling his memory, and he suddenly had an idea of who it was. Oh, he truly, truly hoped that his theory was wrong…

"It's Vegeta," Gohan smirked, the statement which cemented Mirai's hunch. "Now we can race against each other, at least, instead of walking alone."

Mirai groaned lightly at this, shaking his head. It was coming back to him now—the day that he'd arrived at this timeline, when he'd spoken to his father, Vegeta had mentioned that he was also attending school. The teenager hadn't exactly understood what his father had been talking about, and he hadn't exactly cared to find out. Now, though, it made sense, and he knew that P.E. wasn't going to be nearly as easy as he'd thought it would be.

"Who's Vegeta?" Raiyne asked the two boys, confused at what they were talking about. Instantly, Mirai turned towards her after she asked the question, and he answered it honestly.

"Vegeta's my dad," he told her, causing Raiyne's eyes to widen the slightest bit as she suddenly realized where she had thought she'd seen Mirai's features before. They were a carbon copy of the very intimidating gym teacher's—if she changed his hair color to black and managed to use gel to spike it up, and if his eyes became onyx, he would be Vegeta's clone or his unknown twin.

"So, since Mister Briefs is your dad…" Raiyne began, quickly putting the pieces together. "Does that mean that your mom is…Bulma Briefs?" she lowered her voice exceptionally at the last bit, hoping no one else would hear.

Gohan and Mirai were honestly surprised that she could get it so quickly—lots of times, people took a while to figure out things after they were given information. But Mirai answered honestly once more, and nodded a bit. "Yeah, she's my mom."

"So…that means that Gohan's mom is the best friend of Bulma Briefs?" Raiyne's voice grew more surprised by the second, but didn't grow any louder than before. The boys realized that she was very sharp—honestly, Gohan had no idea how she'd remembered all of that, actually, but they nodded again, affirming her statement.

"Wow," she said in shock. "I never thought that I'd know so many people with famous relations. Oh, don't worry, I won't tell anyone," she reassured both Mirai and Gohan.

"Thanks, it means a lot," Gohan said gratefully, honestly relieved that she wouldn't blab about how his mom was Bulma Briefs' best friend.

"Yeah, thanks," Mirai added, faintly grinning at her. He, too, was glad that she wouldn't tell everyone of his heritage—however, he was sure that _someone_ would figure it out eventually, which would lead to _everyone_ knowing about him. He'd like to retain his anonymity as long as he could.

"It's nothing," she said dismissively, smiling a bit at them. "But why did you seem like you weren't eager to see your father?"

"My father is going to be a plow driver with you guys," Mirai told her bluntly. "And he will _not_ take it easy on either me or Gohan. Hell, he'll probably treat us the worst out of everyone." Raiyne gave him a slightly funny look at that, not understanding why the gym teacher wouldn't show a _little_ favoritism towards his son, before she decided to drop the subject with a shrug, more curious about other things.

"So, where do you guys live?" she wondered. "Mirai, do you live in Capsule Corp.?"

"Yeah, I do," Mirai replied, nodding. "Gohan here lives in the 439 East District."

Raiyne turned towards Gohan, surprise written all over her features. "But that's so _far_!" she exclaimed, in shock. "How in the _world_ do you manage to get here every day? And mostly on _time_?"

"I have a _really_ fast transport," Gohan answered, grinning at her—he wasn't necessarily lying, because flying _was_ a form of transportation, all things considered, probably also one of the oldest modes of transportation out there also.

Raiyne just nodded, taking his word for it, before they got close to the locker rooms. Raiyne said her farewells to the young men while she went to the girls' locker room, while Gohan and Mirai went to the boys' locker room together. There, they quickly changed into their gym clothes, and after they were done, they exited the locker room. They both caught sight of Vegeta, who was surveying the other teenagers that had already finished changing as well, and they exchanged a glance as they went up to him. He sensed them coming, and turned towards them, his onyx eyes silently demanding why they were coming up to him.

"Dad…" Mirai trailed off, not sure how he should phrase his desire so that his father wouldn't blow up at him. Asking him things annoyed him, and ordering him around was _definitely_ not an option. He came up with the best thing—don't plead, just be firm. "Please, let me and Gohan go train in the mountains for class." It sounded almost like a question, but not completely.

Vegeta gave them both a funny look, surprised that they'd even ask him that, and instantly replied, "Absolutely _not_. I will torture you _both_ in front of the class as much as I want. And for even _asking_, do one hundred laps around the track. The one who finishes last has to train with me tonight." At this, he smirked at his great plan—he could torture the two in front of their classmates, _and_ he got a training partner to boot.

Gohan gave Mirai a slightly dirty look, when Mirai held his hands up in surrender at his best friend. It had been both of their ideas to go to the mountains to spar against each other, and Mirai hadn't honestly thought that it would end that badly. Then, Gohan and Mirai both went to the starting point of the race, allowing themselves to face their fate. Counting to three to each other through telepathy, they both shot off at the exact same moment, seeming almost as fast as a bullet from a gun—some of the students would swear that they heard a sonic boom.

All of the teenagers were shocked at how fast they were going—they both seemed to be almost like blurs, barely able to be seen by their untrained human eyes. Even Videl was getting a shock, having just come out of the locker rooms. The two boys weren't slowing down in the least, even though they were already on their sixth lap—they'd done a mile and a half, and both of them seemed as if they hadn't broken a sweat, not slowing down, not even breathing hard.

"Listen up, maggots," Vegeta's gruff voice spoke up once more, causing the class to turn their eyes away from the unbelievable race and face their intimidating gym teacher. "As you can see, those two brats pissed me off. Anyone else that annoyed me will get the same punishment: a one-hundred lap race, and the loser has to run one hundred more laps. Got it?" As he spoke, he glared darkly at the class, a glare that struck fear into all of the students' hearts, even Videl's. Seeing the fear in the teenagers' eyes, the pure-blooded Saiyan prince couldn't help the lightly sadistic smirk that crossed his handsome features, the features that were the exact same as Mirai's. Oh, it had been far too long since he'd seen fear in the eyes of someone else like that, and he indulged in it at the moment.

After somehow ripping their gazes from Vegeta's penetratingly dark obsidian eyes, seeming to rip into their souls and tear them to pieces, they turned back to watch the race between the two teenaged boys. They were currently on lap fifty-seven, still seeming to not break a sweat, dead even with each other. Wow, they were _really_ fast, most of the class speculated.

"Class, everyone pair up and practice some of your martial arts skills," Vegeta told them, crossing his arms as he watched Gohan and Mirai continue to race. "I'm going to see who will win." With that, he left the class alone to watch the race, going to the "finish" line, which was where they had started as well, just as they breezed past him on their sixty-fourth lap.

Everyone paired up with each other, but Videl was the odd one out, mostly because of the fact that mostly everyone was afraid of fighting her. Erasa, who was sometimes her partner and who Videl didn't seriously fight with, was paired up with Raiyne at the moment, so she couldn't ask either of them. Because she had no one to fight, Videl shrugged lightly, and walked up to Vegeta to watch the race—Gohan and Mirai were currently on lap sixty-eight and weren't slowing down.

"So, Mister Briefs," Videl began, cautious with how she would word her inquiry, "how did you meet Gohan?" Even though the boy had told her that his father was a good friend of Bulma Briefs, she severely doubted that it was his only relation to Mr. Briefs—the two interacted as if they had known each other for a long time.

Vegeta bluntly answered with the honestly truth: "I tried to kill him."

At first, Videl actually thought he was serious. Then, she laughed a bit, nervously, realizing that her gym teacher had one screwed-up, morbid sense of humor, before she asked him the question once more, wanting a real answer this time.

"I _said_ that I tried to kill him," he answered, slightly annoyed with the girl now, continuing to watch the two demi-Saiyans with an almost bored look on his face, when he was truly interested in who would win. They were evenly matched still, and nearing lap ninety. "What do you _not_ understand about my sentence, girl? Can your tiny brain grasp that concept, or do I have to repeat myself once more, or spell it out for you?"

Videl grew annoyed, both at the fact that he was insulting her and that he wouldn't answer her question seriously. In a fit of anger, she said to _hell_ with any school rules, and threw a punch at the gym teacher.

Before she could register what happened next, she was on the ground, more than ten feet away from the stoic man, and could barely breathe, the wind knocked out of her from a fierce blow to her midsection, more off to her side than directly in the middle. She gasped for air, furiously glaring at the prince, forcing herself to stand up, wincing in pain as she grabbed her side—he'd probably known that it hurt even more when the side was hit, as if she'd just run a few miles straight. She walked back over to him, her blue eyes fiery.

"How did you _do_ that?" she demanded to know, furious. A theory suddenly hit her, and she instantly pounced upon it, not missing a beat. "Are you one of those tricksters from the Cell Games?" It was coming back to her now—she remembered that, in the Cell Games, there had been someone with a hairstyle that she believed resembled Vegeta's. It was faint, because it had been so long since the Cell Games had happened, but she still vaguely remembered that. And, come to think of it…wasn't there someone with lavender hair back at the Cell Games, as well? Her eyes darted towards Mirai, who was still racing Gohan, rounding their ninety-eighth lap, running even faster than before, if possible. Could it be…? No, it was impossible. That lavender-haired young man had been a teenager, about the same age as Mirai now, and the Cell Games had been seven years ago. Things like that were not possible, so it couldn't have been him.

However, Vegeta didn't answer her question, continuing to watch the race as the two boys began their last lap, his eyes like a hawk's, watching their every move and scrutinizing it. When the two made it to the last curve, they suddenly put on a large burst of speed, both of them desperate to win, while Vegeta locked his eyes on the finish line now, waiting to see the first one who would pass it.

To everyone else who was absentmindedly watching, it was a tie. However, Vegeta's sharp eyes had seen what they couldn't—Gohan had finished first, but it had been such a close race that it was impossible for the other humans to see. Mirai had been a mere nanosecond or two behind Gohan, not even a millimeter away from the finish line when Gohan reached it. The black-haired boy smirked in triumph, while his lavender-haired friend looked nearly horrified and dumbfounded. Vegeta couldn't help but smirk at the look on his son's face.

"Answer my question," Videl suddenly demanded, realizing that she'd lost Mr. Briefs' attention. In anger, trying to regain it, she reached out a finger and tried to poke him in the chest.

The moment her finger came a centimeter away from his spandex-clad torso, she was unable to blink before she was suddenly grabbed and held in a full nelson by Vegeta. She struggled for a few moments in his grip, but was unable to get out—for all she knew, she could be trying to be forcing herself out of a statue's grip. She continued to try and use her weight against him, but it only made her arms feel even worse. To make things even more humiliating, he suddenly let go, causing her to fall on the ground from her previous force that she'd been exerting, trying to escape from the vice-like grip that Vegeta had on her arms. On the floor, she glared daggers up at Vegeta, while the prince returned the glare's intensity.

The only female who had dared to poke him in the chest was his own wife, and he sometimes allowed it, because her audacity was rather intriguing at times—she was so weak, and yet she was completely unafraid of him. For some reason, he found that, at times, rather arousing, and when she became furious at him, he wanted to ravish her in that instant. With this inferior girl, however, when _she_ got angry and audacious, it _pissed_ him _off_. He lightly growled at her in return, before crossing his arms against his chest once more while Gohan and Mirai jogged back to him, having jogged a bit down the straightway because of the speed at which they had been moving at.

Watching as his eldest son came up to him, Vegeta smirked, temporarily forgetting about the girl on the floor. "Looks like we're going to spar tonight during Scarface's funeral, boy," he announced, smirking a bit more at that, while Mirai shuddered. He remembered what had happened the last time they had sparred, and winced.

It was going to be a long, grueling night for him.

* * *

Next time on The Walking Z a survivor's story: Is Con alive? Will Videl ever hit Vegeta? How will Yamcha's funeral go? Figure out most of these next time.

**And thank you all for reading this! Please review, lovelies! :D**


	6. Final countdown

To Full Power: I'm planning too.

To Poopdock:I will and it's only going to get better

Disclaimer: I believe the multi-verse theory so somewhere in a universe I in fact do own dragon ball z but sadly not in this one.

**And I am just tired...so I got nothing to say here X3**

* * *

Of course, Videl just _had_ to be close enough to actually hear the conversation between the three men with Saiyan blood, prompting her to ask, "What the hell are you _talking_ about?" She didn't ask anyone specifically, but Gohan obviously thought that she was speaking to him. As such, he tried to sneak off inconspicuously before the inevitable interrogation that would follow.

He'd underestimated Videl's vision—even though her vision wasn't _nearly_ as sharp as his, she saw him trying to sneak around the corner of the school building to somehow hide from her. This thought infuriated her even more, and she instantly yelled, "Gohan, get back here!" The demi-Saiyan's eyes widened, and he dashed away, followed in hot pursuit by a furious young woman.

Watching the scene play out, both Mirai and Vegeta actually pondered for a few seconds if they should help Gohan out. Then, Vegeta snickered as he shook his head, while Mirai couldn't help but smirk—of course they wouldn't help him. The idea was ludicrous to even begin thinking about.

"Boy, I'll make you a deal," Vegeta began, forming a compromise with his son. "If you manage to hit me before class officially ends, you can get out of the spar." His voice was dripping with confidence and haughtiness, and Mirai's blue eyes lit up with the prospect of a challenge, and he instantly took it, nodding for a moment. Not even a moment after that, his fist shot out, trying to punch his father in the stomach—however, before his punch could connect, Vegeta phased out of sight, causing the lavender-haired prince to lightly curse, following his father's energy.

Meanwhile, Gohan was still dashing away from Videl in a panic—unbeknownst to him, he was being followed by the eldest Saiyan prince. He got quite the shock when Vegeta suddenly phased in front of him, a smirk on his regal features.

"So, brat, how are things going between you and your mate?" Not a moment after he spoke, he suddenly shot out a fist, knocking the boy into the ground with the force of his punch. Quickly, though, Gohan regained his bearings, and a light blush coated his cheeks as he stood back up, recovering quickly from the punch that he'd received while Vegeta still wore that damnable smirk on his face.

"Vegeta, she _isn't_ my mate," Gohan insisted, the blush still coating his pale cheeks, missing the light smirk that flitted across Vegeta's face as he looked out of the corner of his eye, feeling the familiar energy of Mirai heading towards him with almost frightening speed. Gohan was still too mortified to register the other energy heading towards him, still trying to convince Vegeta to stop calling Videl his _mate_. "Look, it's not like that at _all_. Can we just—"

He stopped when Vegeta suddenly phased out of sight once more, and Gohan suddenly caught sight of Mirai only centimeters in front of him. The lavender-haired boy recognized his best friend, and tried to stop the punch—however, there had been far too much momentum in the punch that he had been getting ready to throw at his father's "unsuspecting" back, and, as such, promptly hit Gohan in the face.

The force of the punch caused Gohan to fly into a tree. The force was so much, actually, and Gohan's body was so resilient, that he actually snapped the tree in half like a toothpick with his back, before his whole body landed with a heavy _THUD!_ on the brick wall of the school building. The force of his impact caused a few of the bricks to crack lightly, and he landed on the ground, momentarily stunned, having not expected the attack at all—Vegeta's body had been completely covering Mirai's incoming punch.

Gohan's body had landed right next to Videl. Instinctually, the girl jumped in shock, realizing that he'd nearly crashed into her, but then she realized that he was on the ground, not moving, while Mr. Briefs seemed to find the situation hilarious, unable to contain his laughter.

"Oh my _god_, what did you _do_!?" she shrieked at both of them, before running up to Gohan's side, checking if he was all right. Mirai also went up to Gohan as well, wanting to make sure that he didn't hurt his best friend too badly, because that hadn't exactly been a pulled punch on his part. Mirai's gaze turned relieved, and Videl's blue eyes were surprised, when Gohan sat up, lightly groaning upon as he shook his head. The boy from the future let out a breath that he hadn't exactly known he'd been holding as Gohan blearily looked at him, his obsidian eyes disoriented and lightly demanding an explanation for this.

"Sorry, Gohan," Mirai said apologetically, offering him a slightly sheepish smile. "Dad said that I could get out of training if I hit him. I didn't know that you were there…his body completely hid yours, for some reason, or maybe I just wasn't paying attention, but then he dodged, and, well, I hit you. Sorry, man."

Gohan was still woozy, clutching his head as he winced. "Man, I feel like Mom just hit me with the frying pan ten times in rapid succession," he moaned lightly, trying to see past the stars and black dots that were blurring his vision. As he stood up, he lightly stumbled, and Mirai instantly reached out to help the black-haired teenager as he still shook his head. "Man, Mirai, your punches have gotten really, really strong."

Mirai smirked lightly back. "Well, I think the only reason you're hurt so badly is because I wasn't exactly holding back this time," he informed Gohan, still helping him up a bit. However, Gohan soon quickly regained his bearings once more, and was able to stand on his own, albeit still a little dizzy.

"Gohan, you need to go to the infirmary!" Videl told him, because he seemed to be getting ready to walk back into the school building. "Who _knows_ what could've happened to you? That looked _really_ painful." She'd neglected to notice that the tree had also been knocked down from Gohan's force of impact. If she'd seen it, she'd probably grow even more suspicious of Gohan at the moment, wondering how he could've plowed straight through a full-grown tree.

"I'm fine," Gohan said dismissively, even though his voice was still slightly faint with his wooziness. "I've been hit harder." He brought a hand to his forehead slightly, head still pounding lightly, but he shook it off, turning towards his best friend. "Mirai, go kick Vegeta's butt. I know Yamcha would've liked you at the funeral." His voice was quiet, and Mirai nodded, before chasing after his father again, who wore a smirk on his face as he was attacked by his son fiercely.

"You mean Yamcha the baseball player?" Videl asked, incredulous at how Gohan somehow seemed to know him. "And, also, how the hell is it _possible_ to be hit harder and freaking _live_? There's a crack in the freaking brick _wall_ because of you!" This was accompanied with an accusatory glare at the demi-Saiyan standing in front of Videl.

"Yes, I mean Yamcha the baseball player," Gohan replied, sounding tired. "And to answer your second question—I was just gifted with a very hard head." Then, he dropped the subject, and turned his attention quickly towards the sky, where Vegeta and Mirai were fighting. Vegeta was currently a Super Saiyan, and Mirai was almost at the Super Saiyan level of his power, but not quite yet. Videl hadn't realized that the two other males had disappeared, her eyes only on Gohan at the moment as she glared at him.

"Whatever," she shot back sarcastically. "I'm going to go find Sharpener and get an _excellent_ sparring match on with a guy whose ass I can kick in less than two minutes." With that, she stormed off, needing to vent her frustration and anger at _someone_ as she tried to figure out the unsolvable enigma that was Son Gohan.

Gohan was slightly confused with her reaction, watching her stalk away, before he shrugged absentmindedly, and turned his attention back to the fight. He could tell that things were escalating—their powers slowly began to increase, their hits become harder and more powerful. He was glad that the students had really bad eyesight, so that none of them would be able to see the fight, and also for the fact that they were behind the school building.

"Come on, boy, I thought you were stronger than this!" Vegeta taunted his son maddeningly, causing Mirai's blue eyes to flash with his slowly growing anger. Vegeta decided to rub salt into the wound, and continued, smirking, "Even Kakarot's second brat can hit in a shorter time than this! Hell, I could beat you with both arms tied behind my back _and_ my eyes closed!"

Hearing this, unable to tolerate any more insults, Mirai began angry, and promptly transformed into a Super Saiyan himself, allowing himself to be led on by his father's goading, the teenager's eyes turning teal and his hair spiking up and turning a shining golden color as he began to strike his father with renewed vigor. Gohan realized that this fight would get out of hand very quickly, and, checking to make sure no one randomly came and saw him, he floated up to where they were fighting, and somehow managed to get in between them.

"Both of you, stop it, right now." Gohan was speaking like he was scolding a child as he looked at the two Saiyan princes. "I'd rather not explain to Bulma why she has to pay a _lot_ of money to rebuild this school after you both demolish it."

It seemed that Mirai had completely ignored him, and used the Afterimage technique on his father. Before Vegeta knew it—Gohan having the audacity to speak to him like he was a mere _child_ had stunned him momentarily—Mirai suddenly phased in front of him and smashed into his midsection with his elbow, causing Vegeta to fly into the ground. The impact was loud—Vegeta's collision with the ground brought up large clouds of debris, and made a large crater within the earth.

Gohan glared fiercely at Mirai, causing the other teenager to smirk right back at him as he slowly diminished from his Super Saiyan form, his golden hair fading back to lavender, his eyes returning to their sky-blue color. He seemed completely smug at the moment, not caring about the light glare that Gohan was giving him, even though the black-haired teen honestly felt like he wanted to cry deep down inside when they heard the voices.

All of the students had heard the large impact that Vegeta had made with the ground—they turned, and saw that their P.E. teacher had seemed to be smashed right _into_ the earth, inside a deep crater. Their eyes all widened in shock, and then they realized that no one was able to find Mirai or Gohan, either, which added to the oddness of the situation.

"C'mon, Mirai, let's go around the corner before we go down," Gohan told his best friend, still slightly annoyed with the lavender-haired prince's actions, when he realized that they could now be easily spotted by the students—they'd moved to hovering over the building unconsciously. "Everyone's looking for us, and we don't exactly want everyone knowing about our flying, do we?" In response, Mirai simply shrugged, causing Gohan to lightly grind his teeth in irritation, and began to follow Gohan.

However, Vegeta obviously had other plans.

"Brats, I sure hope that, for your own sanity, you weren't planning to go around the corner and hide before coming down here," Vegeta threatened darkly, his obsidian eyes rather pissed off at the moment.

Both of the boys knew that they were thoroughly screwed at the moment, and exchanged a look of defeat, before floating slowly back down to the ground in slight shame. Many of the students that heard their gym teacher turned to the sky, to see the two boys somehow _floating_ down from the _sky_. Vegeta glared at the two boys once they landed, and smacked them both upside of the head. However, once he was done with that, he turned towards his son, and nodded. It was enough for Mirai, who grinned lightly back at his father.

Videl was furious now, though, upon seeing that Gohan could fly. She couldn't _believe_ that he would lie to her, and she was also rather pissed at the fact that he ditched her yet _again_, managing to dodge the questions she was asking. She threateningly took a step towards the demi-Saiyan, her tiny fists clenched and a furious blush of anger on her features, causing Gohan to back up a bit.

"I can explain this, Videl," Gohan told her calmly, right as the bell rang, announcing that the school day was over. Instantly, all of the students ran to get their things and get the hell home. Videl stood right where she was, determined she wouldn't lose sight of the boy, but Gohan seemed to have other plans, and instantly bolted, weaving through the sudden crowd of other students to grab his stuff and get out of the school building as fast as he possibly could, managing to reach his locker without Videl catching him.

Next to him, Raiyne was getting her books out of her locker, and she turned towards his direction, and she smiled at him a bit. "Hey, Gohan," she greeted, having been one of the first ones to leave gym class, not seeing him flying, and not knowing that he was currently being chased by a furious black-haired girl. "Hey, that's really cool. We have lockers next to each other."

"Yeah, that _is_ cool," he agreed, though he seemed hurried as he quickly pulled whatever books he needed out of his locker, continuously stealing glances behind his back. "Hey, I would love to stay and chat, but I have to go now." As he finished, he ran off, trying to escape from Videl. Even though he had a head start, however, Videl was on a war path, and everyone was moving out of her way, while Gohan still had to lightly push through people to escape her wrath.

It was then that Mirai flooded in with the crowd of students, after speaking to his father for a little bit longer than normal. Raiyne was still at her locker, looking at something in her palm, wearing a faint grin on her face as she looked at whatever it was in her hand. Interested in what she was looking at—his locker was also under hers, so he had to wait—he came up behind her, peeking over her shoulder easily since he was so much taller than her.

She felt a presence behind her, and turned around slowly, and nearly shrieked when she saw Mirai there, unconsciously and quickly whisking away what she'd been looking at. Seeing the amused smirk on his face, her dark brown eyes glared at him lightly as she attempted to shove him—however, she might as well had been trying to move a concrete statue, judging on how much he budged.

"Do _not_ just stand _behind_ people _silently_ like that!" she reprimanded him. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, you asshole!"

Mirai chuckled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he teased lightly.

Raiyne huffed. "I wasn't _scared_. You just _startled_ me, that's all."

"Of course." Mirai couldn't keep the light smirk off of his face, before it lightly fell as he registered what she'd been looking at. "Was that a photo of your parents?"

After he said that, Raiyne quickly brought the small rectangle that she'd been holding back up, and she nodded, returning her gaze to the picture. She hadn't _really_ been angry with him, she'd just been annoyed, and quickly forgot the slight annoyance that had come after he spoke. "I was a baby in the picture," she said with a small, faint smile. "My aunt's in there, too, in the background. She's the one making the silly face." With that, she showed him the picture again, which held three adults and one baby.

One of the adults had long, blond hair, pulled back into a ponytail, as she held a baby girl in her arms. The baby girl was smiling up at the woman behind the blonde—the baby seemed about a year old—and had a crown of curly brown hair, along with sparkling dark brown eyes, just like the woman who was holding her—Mirai guessed that she was her mother. The man who he supposed was her father was next to the two women, a smile on his face as his hand rested on his wife's shoulder—he had a small scar across his cheek that began at the bridge of his nose, a strong jaw, and green eyes that were gentle and yet also showed that they could be fierce. Behind the smiling couple was a woman who, already by looking at the picture, Mirai guessed was rather rambunctious and fun to be around. Her own hair was extremely curly and was a fiery red color, her own dark brown eyes smiling as she made a silly face to the baby girl, looking down at her while the picture had been taken.

"That's my mom," Raiyne told Mirai quietly, pointing to the woman with long blonde hair that was temporarily pulled back in a ponytail. "Her name's Jennifer. And that's my dad." She now pointed towards the man who seemed both gentle and an able fighter. "His name's Con. And _that's_ my Aunt Kiana; she's my mom's sister," Raiyne said with a smile as she pointed towards the woman with extremely curly red hair. "People say that I look more like her than Mom, but I think I look like both of them." Her smile trembled a bit as she looked at the picture once more, forcing herself not to break down in tears. She placed the picture back into the locker, closing it as she hoisted her bookbag over her shoulder, keeping her tears in.

"Hey, want me to show you around the city?" Mirai suddenly suggested, wanting her to focus on something else, not wanting her mood to go back to the way it had been in the beginning of the day. He'd quickly gotten his books from his locker, and followed her as she walked towards the door.

She turned to look up at him (slightly disgruntled at the fact that she had to look _up_. Being short _wasn't_ fun.), her eyes lightly rimmed with red, but it seemed that she was able to hold the tears in easily. "Sure," she responded, wearing a light smile on her features, her eyes gradually drying. "So, do you know anything that's _fun_ to do around here? Or something?"

"Well, I've heard that there's a great pizza place about a mile away from here; the reviews that it gets are great, and I, personally, have heard that it's amazing from everyone," Mirai answered, grinning a bit. "And then, after that, there's an ice cream parlor only a block or two away—I've also heard that it's great. And then, there's a really nice park that we could go to also, or, if you want to, an amusement park—it doesn't close until one in the morning."

"Sounds pretty awesome," Raiyne replied with a smile. "We'll decide what we'll do as we go along—I say we go to the pizza place, though, for sure."

"All right, then," Mirai responded, smiling as they walked side by side out of the school building and in the general direction of the pizza parlor. He was glad to see that her tears were forgotten, that she was now grinning at him.

As they walked away from the school and were out of earshot of the students, Raiyne turned to Mirai with light mischief sparkling in her eyes. "So, what's it like, having Bulma Briefs for a mother, and the gym teacher as your father?"

Mirai let out a chuckle at that. "Well, it's _interesting_, that's for sure…"

* * *

"Videl, please, please let me explain," Gohan said, trying to ward off Videl's fury. He'd been cornered by the young human woman, and honestly didn't want to hurt her. Vainly, he wondered where the hell Mirai and Vegeta were, wanting them to help him somehow, but then, that little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that, even if he had asked for help, that they probably wouldn't just to spite him.

"I…I have a logical explanation for everything, Videl, I promise." He just wanted her to leave. Him. Alone. Damn it, what was so hard about just wanting a little bit of privacy? Why did she have to be so freaking _persistent_?

"I give you _two_ minutes to explain," Videl told him, placing her hands upon her hips, in what Gohan had come to recognize as the battle stance of the female gender. She glared fiercely at him with her sapphire eyes, tapping her foot on the ground impatiently as she waited for him to explain himself. Time was ticking, and she was making sure that he knew that fact, too.

"Well…um…" Gohan desperately searched for anything—anything at all—that he could say. However, no matter how he put it, it seemed that he wouldn't possibly be able to explain the whole situation with Videl, with her understanding it. He was almost grasping at straws, wanting to be anywhere but where he was at the present moment. He then did something so daring and so desperate that he wouldn't be able to actually believe what he had done after the deed had been completed—it had been so sudden and unexpected on his part as well that he couldn't stop himself.

He suddenly leaned in, and he kissed Videl.

Oh, god. He. Was. Kissing. Videl. He was dead. He was very, very, very, very, very dead.

Videl was taken completely off guard at his brash action, and struggled momentarily for the first moment, absolutely furious with him still. Then, somehow, though, she completely forgot what had happened, only feeling the kiss. Slowly, almost timidly, she unconsciously deepened the kiss.

She was kissing Gohan. What the hell? And yet…it felt…it felt…

…Why did it feel so _right_?

Their lips gently moved against each other's, both of them still timid, but not making any move to disconnect their lips from the kiss. They both unconsciously deepened it even more, eyes closed in pure bliss, not understanding the emotions that were welling up inside of them but not caring about that.

Eventually, the two teenagers pulled away from each other, their faces only a few millimeters away from each other, still able to feel their breath on each other's faces. Seeing that Videl was still slightly stunned and hazy, Gohan quickly forced himself to regain his bearings (no, he would _not_ think about how soft Videl's lips had been, how they had been as soft as rose petals, as angels' wings—no, no, no, no, no, because it was _Videl_ and he _couldn't_ be thinking that about her), and he dashed off as fast as he could. However, it was almost as if he could still feel her lips on his own as he dashed out of the building as fast as he could.

It took Videl a little longer to recover from the kiss, still lost in a slight haze. However, a few moments after she regained herself, she looked around, and instantly turned red, both at what had transpired, and at the fact that Gohan had left yet _again_ without answering _any_ questions.

"GOHAN, I AM GOING TO _KILL_ YOU!" Videl shrieked at the top of her lungs, absolutely furious with what had transpired, trying to find Gohan once again, feeling the urge to both slap him and to kiss him again—

No. She did _not_ have that second urge. That was not true. It wasn't. She kept on telling herself that…but she could still feel the imprint that his lips had seemed to leave on her own, and she lightly brought her fingers up to her lips, almost feeling Gohan's surprisingly full lips on her own, firm but soft as well…

Well, that was _definitely_ not how she had imagined her first kiss going…

Meanwhile, Gohan flew towards Capsule Corp. as fast as he could, clad in his Saiyaman costume. His mind was a jumble of incomprehensible thoughts that he began to mutter aloud in his odd state. "I'm dead," he told himself. "I am a dead man. I am very, very, very dead. I am _so_ dead. She'll kill me, and then she'll get the Dragon Balls and wish me back to life so she can kill me _again_, and _then_ she'll kill me in the _afterlife_, and _then_—I'm dead. I'm _so_ dead."

As he spoke to himself, he eventually landed on the lawn of Capsule Corporation. He was brought out of his mumbling when he was tackled by two eager balls of energy, their force knocking him straight to the ground.

Goten and Trunks eagerly laughed as they landed on Gohan, eagerly calling chanting his name. Gohan couldn't help but grin at the two little guys, before he lightly smacked them off of his chest, standing up. He looked down at the little boys who were just about bouncing with energy.

"Yes, guys?" he replied.

"Can we play? Can we can we can we oh _please_ can we?" Goten asked eagerly, nearly jumping up and down from his happiness.

"Where's Dad and my big brother?" Trunks added, looking around for the stoic Saiyan prince and the older version of himself.

"Honestly, Trunks," Gohan replied, looking around himself oddly, "I don't know where either your brother or your dad is." Where could they possibly be? He had no idea, and decided that it wasn't important—he knew that they wouldn't miss the funeral. At least, he hoped they wouldn't.

Oh, they wouldn't. He'd almost forgotten about Bulma being in the picture.

"And to answer your question, squirt," Gohan added, ruffling his little brother's hair, causing the little boy to giggle, "sure, I'll play a game with you guys." Goten laughed eagerly as Gohan then hoisted him up onto his tall shoulders, and Goten instantly grabbed a couple of fistfuls of Gohan's black hair with his small hands, feeling extremely tall from the high perch of his brother's broad shoulders.

"So, what game do we wanna play?" Gohan asked, looking down at Trunks and then up at the little boy, whose hands had moved to hold him under the chin. At this, Goten let out another laugh.

"Let's play tag!" he said eagerly, before he lightly tapped Gohan with his hand, 'tagging' him, and instantly flying away with Trunks, who grinned at the prospect of the new game.

"Gohan's _It_!" Trunks yelled out, before flying around a corner, trying to escape from Gohan's sight. The teenaged half-Saiyan shook his head, grinning, and flew after them a few seconds later. As he played with the little boys, he nearly forgot what had transpired back in the school.

But, no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't get his mind off of it. How soft her lips had been, how they had seemed to almost match perfectly together, like two conjoining pieces in a puzzle as they'd lightly leaned into each other…he had no idea what was going on with him. He tried to forget it.

But he…couldn't.

* * *

"Here lies Yamcha: Loyal Friend, Brave Fighter, and Protector. Rest in Peace."

This was what the tombstone of Yamcha, the pro-baseball player and former bandit, read, outside on the vast lawn of Capsule Corp. The gray stone seemed to almost stand out starkly against the green grass, which was why a few flowers had been placed on it by a few of the group in sorrow, wanting to give him respect and also as a way to personally mark the gravestone.

It had been one of the few times that the entire Z-group—now minus Yamcha—had been together. None of them could truly remember that last time that they had all been together as a group like this—possibly when Goten was born?—but it was so long ago. This occasion wasn't nearly as happy as any of them had wished for it to be, now together after the devastating loss of someone dear to almost all of them.

Vegeta snorted, slightly contemptuous as he looked down at the body lying in the casket, which stood next to the pile of freshly dug earth—the dirt had lightly sprayed over the white flowers that had been placed at the foot of the gravestone, which would be a little above where his body would lay. "I'll see you in hell, Scarface," he said, so quietly that no one else would hear.

It was then that his sharp eyes seemed to notice a slight movement within the casket. Cautiously, Vegeta moved closer to inspect what it was—however, there was nothing the second time that he'd checked, and he glared at it suspiciously for a moment, before he backed up, allowing whoever wanted to speak next to go next.

"Man, I remember all the adventures we had," Goku murmured quietly, his obsidian eyes saddened, full of grief. "I mean, when I first met you, you just wanted to steal the Dragon Balls. You became an ally, and then a great friend. We'll never forget you. Rest in peace, Yamcha." He nodded, and then stepped back from the cold, dead body of his comrade.

Krillin spoke up next, his voice slightly shaky. "Yamcha…you were my best friend next to Goku. We always hung out together, being the two humans who hung out with this crazy gang." A strangled chuckle escaped from his throat at that, before he continued, feeling an odd burning sensation behind his eyes. "I…I remember that we trained together, hung out together…I'll never forget. No, Yamcha, I promise, I'll never forget."

A single tear escaped from Krillin's dark brown eyes, and he hastily wiped it away, struggling not to cry—Yamcha wouldn't have wanted them to cry at his funeral. But it was hard _not_ to, when they realized that they'd never be able to hang out together anymore. "See you in the afterlife, Yamcha. I…I…" Krillin couldn't think of anything else to say, overcome by a wave of grief as he allowed the tears to begin to flow, hastily bringing one hand up to his eyes to hide them.

Seeing how sad her daddy was, Marron decided to speak up. "I know that we'll all miss you, Uncle Yamcha, especially Daddy," she said innocently. "So…I hope that you watch over us." She then backed up, going to go where the little half-Saiyans were during the funeral—the little boys' parents hadn't wanted them to see this, but she wanted to see Yamcha and say that last thing. She scampered off to find them inside of the Capsule Corp. building after a gentle nod from her mother.

Krillin soon felt an arm wrap around his shoulder, a familiar arm—this caused him to nearly completely lose it as he cried into his wife's side. Android 18 said nothing, not making a comment about his weakness at all—no one else did. She simply ran her fingers lightly through his black hair—he'd grown it out—as she allowed him to cry into her side. It was probably just hitting him, the fact that Yamcha was dead. Seeing his dead, cold body in the casket, seeing the freshly dug grave that he was going to be put into…it was unbearable.

Then, Bulma wanted to have her say, stepping forward slightly, her sky-blue eyes shining with tears. "Yamcha," she said, her voice already breaking, simply by saying his name. "I…I know we weren't always the best together. I know…the fights we got into…the ups and downs…in the relationship…until we finally ended it officially…" She had to pause between her sentences, or else she would completely break down in tears. "But…y-you were always there f-for me…"

This time, Bulma couldn't help it, and began to let the tears flow freely down her cheeks, her lip trembling, voice breaking, as she continued. "I-I re-remember all th-the things we d-did toge-gether," she sobbed out, one arm wrapped around her ribcage, the other lightly covering her eyes as the tears poured out of them. "I remem-remember all th-the fun we h-had, all the ad-adventures…n-no matter what, y-you were always…al-always…th-there for muh-me…"

She gasped, having trouble breathing at the moment from her tears as she shook her head. "N-no matter s-some of th-the th-th-things we've said, I-I've always kn-known that w-w-we still c-cared for each oth-ther. Y-y-you…" She choked for a moment, letting out another heartbroken sob. "Y-you were, honestly, m-muh-my first l-love. I'll-I'll never f-for-forget that. N-never. An-and ev-even after w-we broke up, w-we were st-still friends…I m-might have ac-act-actually ended u-up with you, y-you know, if Ve-Vegeta hadn't e-ever come in-into the pic-picture. Buh-but, th-through every-everything…we st-stood friends.

"G-goodbye, Yamcha. Goodbye…"

At this, Bulma let out a small wail of agony, unable to control her emotions at the moment, clutching her heart. She might have said things to him when they'd broken up, but they both knew that they cared for each other deeply as friends. The tears poured relentlessly down her pale cheeks as she had a hard time breathing through the tears, taking a step back, unable to look at the dead body any longer. She brought a hand to her mouth in an attempt to stop her cries, but it didn't help as she saw the casket. It only cemented it. Yamcha was dead. Gone.

As always, those tears did something to the stoic Saiyan prince that somehow wrenched his insides. Turning towards his wife, seeing how utterly devastated she was, he let out a slight sigh as he swallowed his pride, and went over to her.

Bulma suddenly felt a pair of warm, reassuring, familiar, muscular arms wrap themselves around her lightly, and she looked up to see that Vegeta was there, his eyes staring straight ahead. When she looked up at him, though, he looked down for a moment, his dark eyes full of an emotion that she couldn't fathom. She then suddenly wailed once more as she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, crying into his chest, nearly choking on her breath as she cried heartbrokenly, being reassured slightly by the comforting feel of her husband's strong body.

"Woman," she heard Vegeta's voice say quietly in her ear—she turned her head back up once more, to meet his obsidian orbs. It took her by great surprise when he gently kissed her forehead, doing nothing more—not even trying to get in a kiss from her lips—as he simply pulled away from her.

"I don't plan on leaving any time soon, Bulma," he told her softly, his voice the gentlest that she'd ever heard it, it felt like. She was surprised that he actually used her name, unable to take her blue eyes away from his intense onyx ones. "I promise, I'm not leaving you."

She smiled a trembling smile, realizing what he was saying—he was reassuring her that he'd still be here, that he'd always be here for her, that he wouldn't leave her unless he had to. She let out a slightly strangled laugh, kissing his lips for a moment, understanding the hidden "I love you" within his few words, before she began to cry again into his chest.

While Bulma and Krillin both grieved for their lost close friend, everyone else went up to the grave and said their own goodbyes to Yamcha as well. Piccolo had even been there, and had acknowledged that Yamcha had been a worthy warrior of the Earth; Chi-Chi said that she was glad that Yamcha had been an overall good influence to her sons; Android 18 said that she hadn't really known him, but that he had been all right with her if Krillin had liked him; Mirai had even said that he didn't know Yamcha all that well, but that he was sorry that he had to depart from all of them (he cast a glance at his distraught mother at this, and he remembered another girl who had reacted this way upon the assumption that her parents were dead); Tien and Chiaotzu had come to pay their respects, as well, with the triclops mentioning how Yamcha had been a good ally and a strong warrior, and Chiaotzu agreeing that he'd been a good man.

Gohan went up last, going up to the casket, unable to believe that Yamcha was dead. His hand was on top of the casket, holding it so that he'd be the one to close it, looking down at the dead body, all cleaned up and dressed nicely. His scars seemed to stand out even more next to the paler skin; Gohan felt his own eyes begin to burn lightly as he spoke his piece.

"Yamcha…you saved my life when I was a little kid," he began, remembering when the Saibamen had come, how Yamcha had attempted to protect him.. "I'm…I'm so sorry this happened to you, you didn't deserve this. I wish I could have changed something to somehow keep you alive. But you'll always be alive in our hearts, Yamcha—we'll never forget you, we promise." He closed his eyes. "I owe my life to you. Goodbye, my friend."

With that, he closed the casket. Goku went up, along with Mirai, to lower the casket into the ground, since Vegeta was still occupied with his grieving wife, and Gohan was still coping with his grief.

Bulma let out a fresh shriek of grief as she saw the casket being closed, covering his dead body, seeing it being lowered into the earth—it cemented it. He was gone, forever. Seeing him being lowered into the ground, watching the casket, made something within her heart twist, and suddenly, she truly did realize that this wasn't a messed-up nightmare, that it was really happening. She continued to cry heartbrokenly, inconsolably, into her husband's chest. The same situation was with Krillin—when he saw his other best friend's body being lowered into the earth, buried, it caused a wave of agony to shoot through him, so intense that he collapsed into sobs once more, while Android 18 continued to run her fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him, while she watched with her own emotionless icy-blue eyes.

It finally sunk in that Yamcha was gone for good, and they all had a few moments of silence for the fallen warrior, the silence only broken by the heartbroken sobs of Bulma and the agonized, light ones of Krillin. The casket was covered with earth a few moments later by Goku and Mirai Trunks, cementing the fact that he was gone for good, the only thing marking where he laid being the freshly turned dirt and the tombstone that now marked the spot where he lay.

Everyone began to slowly leave, saying their goodbyes to each other as well, some of them simply staying to grieve. It was a slow, quiet procession—Chi-Chi went back inside of Capsule Corp. to check on the kids, while Vegeta and Android 18 stood with their respective spouses outside, who were still grieving over the loss of Yamcha. Piccolo quickly said his goodbyes, as did Tien and Chiaotzu, before they left. Goku followed his wife into the large, domed Capsule Corp. building. Gohan had strayed off to the side absentmindedly, and simply stared into space, still unable to understand. Mirai had followed his best friend, and watched as Gohan stood next to one of the trees on the lawn.

"You know, Gohan," Mirai spoke up quietly, "I never really knew Yamcha all that well, but he seemed nice. If you want…we can go and spar. It might help you get your mind off things." The lavender-haired prince wanted to help Gohan escape from all of the sadness and despair that lingered in the air. The black-haired teen responded with a slightly jerky nod, and with that, the two demi-Saiyan teenagers launched instantly into the air.

Nobody saw the freshly-dug earth above Yamcha's grave suddenly, and ever-so-slightly, begin to turn.

* * *

Also I would like to say that I am reading Secret Hearts by Lily-Sama and got a scene from that story to put in this one so please don't say I was stealing it.

Next time on The Walking Z: A Survivor's story: Will Raiyne and Mirai get together, what about Gohan and Videl. Also will Videl kill Gohan for kissing her and leaving. Also where is Con?

**And I nearly cried beta-ing the chapter and writing the funeral. Just a side note. I hope you guys all enjoyed, please review, everyone, it means a lot. Thanks for the support and everything.**


	7. The tales of Con

The only Dragon ball z thing I own is my shirt that says It's Over 9000!

**And I own me and my story :D please read and enjoy, loves! And please review for Captain and me if you like it! :D**

**Gohan's Saiyan Warrior: Thanks for liking the story :) and yeah, it was meant to be a tear-jerker X3**

**UmbreonGodOfHalo: Well, I'm honored that you'd find our writing to be so emotional as to be the first piece of writing to actually make you cry :) it was my goal. It's nice knowing that it had the effect that we wanted :) thanks for liking it :D**

**Vic 'Cody' Seville: No, Vegeta didn't vaporize Yamcha. He simply shot an energy blast at his neck, around his collarbone. He didn't vaporize him, he simply shot a hole through him—sorry if that caused any confusion :) but Yamcha's body is still there—he's just missing a _huge_ hole in his neck/collarbone area, and it caused him to collapse. So yah. :D**

**Anyways, everyone, enjoy! :D**

Warning Course Language throughout the chapter

* * *

"Well, everyone, today is the day," a news reporter, from channel T.T.S., which stood for Team Three Star (do _not_ ask who came up with that name for a news station—it was a long story), said as he looked into the camera. Sharply dressed in a black suit, he gave the audience a slightly classy smile. "Both the extremely famous heiress of Capsule Corporation—none other than the amazing Missus Bulma Briefs—and the Ox King have teamed up. They seem to be doing a combined conference—in fact, here they come now!"

As he spoke, the two aforementioned people walked onto the stage, with a third person following next to Bulma Briefs, seeming slightly grouchy at the moment. The Ox King was also dressed in a suit—somehow, he'd managed to get one tailored for his extremely large frame—as he lumbered onto the stage with his large strides. Behind him were the two others, one of them being Bulma, and the other one being the person who everyone suddenly recognized as her mysterious and elusive husband, Mr. Briefs. The blue-haired woman was wearing a rather classy red dress and a pair of modest heels, a decent amount of makeup on her face as she smiled and walked onto the stage. Her husband seemed like this was the _last_ place in the world he wanted to be—she'd managed to wrestle him into a pair of slacks, a nice jacket, and a pressed white shirt (he _refused_ to do the tie. He didn't do _ties_.)

"Well, it seems that Mister Briefs is here as well!" the reporter continued, watching as said man grumped onto the stage next to his wife. "This is the first time that anyone has truly seen him, and not been crippled as a result—or worse." At that sentence, the intimidating man's gaze suddenly turned towards the reporter, as if he had heard what had been spoken. The intensity of those dark eyes nearly chilled the reporter to the bone, and he let out a nervous laugh as he detached his own brown eyes from the scary, scary man's gaze. Mr. Briefs then crossed his arms against his chest, lightly growling at the camera for effect, before staring ahead, deliberately ignoring everyone around him, as all three of the people onstage sat down on chairs brought out for them. For some reason, there was an extra chair…

"Wait—what's this? Someone else is coming out?" the reporter, who had managed to turn his gaze back to the stage, realizing that Bulma Briefs' husband wasn't looking at him anymore. Now, the attention of the reporter was drawn to the other newcomer on the stage—a young man with spiky black hair and dressed formally as well, wearing a pair of charcoal gray slacks, a pressed light blue shirt, and a matching blazer to go with his slacks.

Bulma walked up to the microphone, used to the cameras and the attention of press conferences, turning her gaze towards her godson quickly—Gohan seemed to be slightly fidgety, playing with his jacket a bit as he sat down. She couldn't help but smile at that, and then turned to see that her husband was there as well—admittedly being a grouch, but still there for her. It made her feel a lot better since she had these two men behind her—her prince, and the boy who she affectionately thought of as her nephew, in a way.

"Hello, everyone!" she called out to the crowd, waving lightly at them. Many people screamed, thinking that they were waving specifically at them, some of them even passing out from pure joy at being recognized by such a famous entity. Bulma couldn't help the light smirk on her features upon seeing their reactions—they _never_ got old—as she continued. "Well, I decided that we could have a special treat today. My good friend, Chi-Chi, is unable to be here with us today—as you know, she is the daughter of the Ox King. However, her son, Gohan, is here, and will be speaking, along with the majority of us here in this press conference."

A collective gasp went through the crowd. "Well, the surprises never seem to stop, do they?" the reporter said, turning towards the camera for a moment. "The Ox Princess actually has a son! I never would've guessed; it's an interesting revelation."

The Ox King walked up to the microphone, and, as he spoke, his booming voice resonated throughout the room. However, it was tinged with good-nature as well, which caused the people to trust him, to not fear him. "My grandson and I are here to tell everyone what we've been doing since the attack on Central City," he explained. "Because, unlike the…_claims_ of others, we _have_ been doing _quite_ a bit of research to somehow figure out what had happened." His voice was, surprisingly, slightly bitter as he said the last sentence, before he backed away from the microphone to allow his grandson to talk. He clapped the young man on the back affectionately, causing Gohan to smile back at his grandfather as he turned to speak.

"Hello, everyone," he began politely, smiling at the crowd. He honestly didn't want to appear on television, but what the hell? Bulma had asked for both him and his mother to appear for the press conference that day, and, since it was a Saturday, his mother had agreed, and at the moment, Gohan knew what he had to do. "My name is Gohan Son," he continued, "and I'm the grandson of the Ox King.

"Since the attack on Central City, we have tried to figure out what was the cause of it. We have found something very interesting and promising as to the cause of this catastrophe—we have managed to get hold of a virus that was found on a body from the city." He forced himself not to think of exactly _whose_ body they'd gotten it from—the funeral of Yamcha was still fresh in their minds, and he saw Bulma have slight trouble breathing at the memory of Yamcha. Gohan then let out the tiniest of smiles as he saw Vegeta's arm lightly snake around the beautiful woman's waist, a silent signal of reassurance.

"Ever since we've found the virus, we've been tampering with it at Capsule Corp. to find out what it _does_, exactly, and to find a possible cure for this." Gohan smiled as he backed away from the microphone, his silent signal that he was done with his piece.

"You heard it here first, folks—the attack on Central City was caused by a virus!" the reporter for the T.T.S. channel said. "Let's see what else is known—will these people give this reliable information to Mister Satan, so that he can possibly use it to his advantage when he fights this?"

Hearing that, Vegeta's dark eyes once again flashed to the poor, unfortunate reporter, causing the man to quake in fear. Gently, he removed his arm from his wife's waist, before he went up to the microphone, an action that honestly surprised everyone. He paid their surprise no mind, standing right in front of the contraption, before he opened his mouth and began to say his piece.

"Cut the bullshit," he said, quite bluntly—his language caused a few mothers to gasp as they quickly covered their children's tiny ears, and some elderly people to begin muttering in disdain. He, quite frankly, didn't give a rat's ass about what they thought of him. Because if they thought _that_ was bad, he couldn't _wait_ until they heard what he just _had_ to say next. It had been threatening to erupt from him for a very long time, and now, the opportunity had finally presented itself.

"Mister Satan is nothing but a weakling," he stated, causing a horrified gasp to go through the crowd, people instantly yelling in protest. He didn't care, going right along with what he had to say. "My ten-year-old son could easily beat him with little effort, _and_ with both arms tied behind his back." Some people fainted from shock in the audience, more screaming, while Vegeta continued, his voice ringing strongly, proudly.

Then, his eyes glinted with a slightly murderous and sadistic light—the smirk that now resided on his face was purely malicious. "The next time that bumbling buffoon calls me weak, I'll find him. I will track him down, rip out his intestines, make a necklace out of them, and then choke him with them."

More people fainted, more horrified screams at the blasphemy. Vegeta simply smirked, going back to the chair next to his wife. As he sat down, she slapped him halfheartedly, but she was unable to hide the light grin on her face as she quickly pecked him on the cheek after she hit him. She was glad that he'd spoken up about their group—sure, she wasn't one of the super-strong freakishly-powerful people, but her husband, her sons, and her friends were al part of this group, and she hadn't liked the way that their strength had been undermined so simply by Hercule. The Saiyan prince smirked back at his wife knowingly.

A different reporter spoke up this time. "Is that a _challenge_, Mister Briefs?" this reporter yelled out, looking at the stoic man in shock. "Because Mister Satan is the one who defeated Cell!"

* * *

An annoying ringing sound resonated through the house as Videl exited the gym. Groaning slightly, she followed the source of the noise, going to the kitchen, where the house phone resided. She picked up, mumbling out, "This is Videl Satan speaking."

"_Oh_ my _god_, Videl!" Erasa's voice shrieked through the receiver, causing Videl to nearly drop the phone in shock as she jumped in surprise at the octave that her blonde friend had managed to hit. "Did you hear the _news_!?"

"Um…no. I was training," Videl answered, rolling her sapphire eyes for a moment. "What happened that's so important that you have to call me and scream at me the moment I answer the phone?"

Erasa paused dramatically, taking a breath herself, unable to believe what she had just witnessed on the television. "Gohan is the _grandson_ of the Ox King! _The_ Ox King! And Mister Briefs just about _challenged_ your dad to a _fight_! And he was being _serious_, too!"

"Okay," Videl said, eyes widening, not truly believing what she'd heard. She decided that she'd tackle the easier oddity at the moment. "_What_ was that about Gohan?"

"Just watch, Videl! I think it's being aired on every news channel," Erasa replied. "He's about to go up again, hurry, hurry!"

Videl instantly ran into the living room, bringing the cordless phone with her just in case as she grabbed the T.V. remote, and quickly pressed the power button to turn on the screen. Her dad was currently at his dojo, training the people on the weekends, so she had the house to herself for now. She watched, her jaw nearly dropping to the floor, as Gohan walked up to the microphone, decked out in a suit. The charcoal was a few shades lighter than his interesting onyx eyes, and the blue seemed to clash perfectly with his pale skin.

_Wow, he certainly cleans up nicely…_

No. She had _not_ just thought that. She hadn't. She shook her head, looking back at the television as Gohan began to speak.

"I'm _so_ sorry about my friend," Gohan—_Gohan_, he was on _T.V._, _why_ was _Gohan_ on the _T.V._?—said. This was added with a light glance towards the smirking man, their gym teacher, and Gohan's dark eyes seemed slightly annoyed with the man. "He _doesn't_ believe that he can beat Mister Satan."

"Tch, don't lie, boy," Vegeta commented with an eye-roll, not even sounding fazed in the least and not bothering to get up from his seat, his voice easily able to be projected through the cries of outrage from the crowd. "I _damn_ right believe that I can beat that idiot. I'll fight him, any time, any day, any moment at all. And yes, I'm being completely damn serious. Any time, _Mister_ Satan." He turned towards one of the cameras, which was conveniently the one that was displaying this on the universal news channel, which meant that his sadistic and malicious smirk was seen by the majority of the people. "He just needs to stop being a coward and challenge me."

Videl stared at the television in shock, unable to fathom what was going on. _I…I _know_ that Mr. Briefs is pretty strong. He's proved that at school, numerous times. But…there's no way that he can beat my dad, the one who defeated Cell…_

_Right?_

Another reporter spoke up. "Mister Briefs, is it true that you will be participating in the World Tournament this summer?"

"Yes, this is true," Vegeta replied with another haughty nod, not needing to go to the microphone since most people had gotten over the shock, or had passed out and stopped their screaming as a result. "My sons will be there, too, and so will Kakarot's."

_"Sons?"_

"What's a Kakarot?"

Vegeta's eyes were growing annoyed with the many questions that the reporters were throwing his way. "Yes, _sons_. Plural. We had an older son who we kept hidden from the media for quite a long time," he answered smoothly. Bulma was secretly glad that her husband hadn't gone into a long story like he sometimes did, not usually wanting to be one to cut the truth for people. To show how much she appreciated this fact, she lightly squeezed his hand, and he nodded the slightest bit in acknowledgement of her gesture.

"And Kakarot is that boy's idiot of a father," Vegeta finished, inclining his head towards Gohan, disdain lightly dripping from his voice as he spoke about his bitter rival.

_Oh, that boy is _so_ dead,_ Videl thought vehemently to herself. _When I see him again, I _will_ strangle him. First, he keeps the fact that he's the grandson of a famous fighter away from me, and _then_ he kisses me and books it._

Upon that last thought, a light blush coated her pale cheeks, and she forced herself not to think of that certain situation.

"So, Mister Ox King," another reporter spoke up, "how is it that nobody knew about the fact that your daughter had a son? Also, where is your daughter at the moment?"

"My daughter's inside, along with my other younger grandson and the Briefs' youngest son," the Ox King replied, a small smile on his face—it was obvious that he cared for his grandchildren very much. _Oh, right, Gohan has a little brother,_ Videl reminded herself. _He tells us stories about him sometimes. Maybe this is how he knows Mr. Briefs? Because his little brother is Mr. Briefs' son's friend?_

This time, one of the female reporters spoke up. "So, Mister Son, are you married?" she asked him, her magenta eyes slightly dark with desire, looking at him almost like he was a meal set out for her to devour. "Or in a relationship?"

Videl's own reaction to this surprised herself—she was feeling…a little _angry_, all of a sudden, for lack of a better word. _Why…why do I feel angry at that question? At the way that she's looking at him? Do I…do I _like_ Gohan? No, no, it's just you being weird, Videl, it's nothing._

It was the Ox King who spoke up for his grandson, seeing that the young man was slightly embarrassed at the question. "No, my grandson is single."

_Why am I so happy about that? I don't _care_, it's just me being really odd. There must have been something in the cafeteria food yesterday that's affecting me now._

"Will you have an arranged marriage?" another reporter asked with interest, looking at the young man curiously. "Mister Son?"

_Please say no. Please say no. Wait, _why_ do I care if he has an arranged marriage again? I _don't_._

Gohan, however, smiled lightly. "No, I won't. I'll marry someone who I love; my grandfather and everyone else in my family want me to be happy, and they aren't sure how happy I would be if my marriage was arranged.

_Huh, that lucky little bastard. I don't even know if I _can_ marry anyone because of Dad's over-protectiveness, and if I _did_…well, I don't know._

"Mister Son, where do you go to school if nobody has ever heard of you before?"

"Oh, I attend OrangeStarHigh School."

"Do you happen to know Videl Satan? The daughter of Mister Satan, the World Savior?" At this, all the reporters gained quite a bit of interested at that, and all got closer to him, wondering if he knew her.

"Yes, I do," he replied, yet another light smile on his face. "We're friends."

_Hopefully more than friends. _Videl blinked in shock at what she'd just thought._ And that, Videl, proves that something is wrong with you. It _had_ to be the cafeteria food yesterday. Yep. Definitely the food. Never trust school lunches._

"Would you ever want to date her?" another reporter asked.

_Answer the goddamn question, Gohan. NOW._

"She's a very beautiful, kind, strong-willed young woman, who always helps others," Gohan replied, causing Videl's jaw to drop. "But…she isn't talking to me at the moment, so even if I _wanted_ to date her, she wouldn't want to date someone like me." His smile became lightly strained, but Videl barely even registered the change, and couldn't help but marvel at what had just happened.

_…Wow. That was really nice of him to say nice things like that about me…_

"That's all, everyone," the Ox King announced as he stood up, hefting his large frame from the chair, as Bulma and Vegeta stood up as well, Gohan already standing as he answered questions. "This press conference is now over."

* * *

What was she possibly going to tell her daughter? How would she explain the fact that she couldn't come home sooner? How would she be able to tell her daughter the news that…that…

She couldn't think it, lest she break down into tears once more.

All of these thoughts were floating through Jennifer's head as she walked down the hallway of the familiar apartment of her sister. She shook her head, taking a deep breath as she walked up to the apartment door. She then raised a fist to the wood, and knocked, and waited.

"I got it!" she heard Raiyne yell through the house a few moments later—she'd probably been doing something in her room, while Kiana was busy cooking or was watching her favorite television show. A few moments later, Jennifer heard the lock unlocking, and the door opened to reveal the young woman.

The moment that Raiyne laid eyes on her mother, recognizing her after a few moments, she let out a strangled laugh, unable to believe it. Then, she jumped into her mother's arms without hesitation, bursting into tears as she hugged Jennifer tightly, while the blonde woman returned her embrace with equal strength.

"Mom!" Raiyne sobbed into Jennifer's chest, crying without abandon as she hugged the woman closer to her. She felt her mother's long, delicate fingers soothingly run through her hair, causing her to cry even harder, realizing that she might possibly have never felt that again. "I…I…I thought you were _dead_!"

"I'm so, so sorry for not coming back sooner, sweetheart," Jennifer apologized quietly. "But…your father's missing; I was looking for him, it's what took me so long to return."

"Wh-what do you mean, 'he's missing'?" Raiyne asked, still sobbing uncontrollably, looking up at her mother to see the dark brown eyes that matched her own through her tears, which covered everything in a haze. "H-he _always_ comes home…"

"I…Raiyne…" Jennifer's voice began to choke up—how could she explain this to their little girl? "I don't think that he'll be found."

Raiyne's eyes snapped up to hers in shock once more. "What?" she gasped, tears still falling from her eyes, this time from hopelessness as the situation began to turn itself around. She'd thought that her father was simply a little late—possibly still recovering from wounds. But…

"I don't think that he's coming back to us, baby," Jennifer told her daughter, whose eyes filled up even more with tears at the insinuation, crying even more as Jennifer gently stroked her hair some more. The woman was currently remembering what had happened, not wanting to remember, honestly.

**-Flashback-**

"Roger that, Con, I'm coming," Jennifer replied instantly, while she directed her chopper towards the Extraction Zone that her husband was at. "Arrival time in T-minus four minutes. Just hold tight, honey."

"All right—be careful, Jennifer," Con told his wife gently—her soothing voice helped calm him down at the moment as he stood up, adjusting the medic's position on his shoulder.

"Am_I_the one currently in the middle of the battlefield with a bunch of zombies?" she replied, incredulous at how he could possibly be worried about her for the moment, shaking her head. "Get into cover as quickly as you can. I love you, Con."

"And I love you, Jennifer," he replied softly.

_You better be okay, Con,_ Jennifer thought to herself, biting her lip as she picked up some stragglers who needed to be picked up first,_ because if you aren't, I will never forgive you. You have to come back…for both me and our daughter._

"Jennifer," Ryan spoke through the universal microphone, contacting his friend's wife, in the first chopper, as the two intercepted. "Drop everyone off over there—I'm coming on." As he spoke, he pointed to an area that was completely barren of zombies, and she agreed as she quickly dropped off everyone that she'd managed to pick up. She saw Ryan jump out of the first chopper, landing on the ground after making sure that Andrew was all right, before jogging over to where Jennifer was waiting.

"All right—let's go and get Con," Ryan said, gripping the edge of the helicopter entrance and jumping onto the floor of it. Jennifer nodded, lifting back off into the air, with Ryan instantly going to the minigun, being prepared to shoot.

Soon, they made it to where Con was said to be, and they realized that there was a horde of zombies standing in front of a door, which was where they believed Con was. "Ryan, get rid of those!" Jennifer ordered, positioning the helicopter so that Ryan would have clear shots at the monsters.

The tall man let out a whoop as he began to fire rapidly at the zombies, trying to aim for their heads. One by one, they began to fall down, and Ryan was shouting during the whole assault. "Yeah, take _that_, you bastards! Kiss my ass, bitches!" he shouted, letting out triumphant whoops every now and then. "Hell yeah, who's your daddy!? Beat _that_, motherfu—"

"Ryan!" Jennifer scolded, turning towards the man with a stern look on her face at the language he'd been about to exhibit.

"…Shitheads!" Ryan corrected himself, unable to stop the smirk on his face as Jennifer _tsk_-ed under her breath at his language, shaking her head.

Eventually, Ryan managed to kill all of the walking dead (with many, _many_ curses and insults aimed at them as he'd rapidly fired). Jennifer landed the chopper, and she lightly slapped Ryan in reaction to his foul words while the huge behemoth of a man smirked (causing her to roll his eyes at him in annoyance and frustration) before the two ran up to the door. Jennifer knocked on the door, waiting.

After the grand total of about three seconds, Ryan muttered under his breath, "Screw _this_."

With that, he backed up, and quickly rammed into the door—a large crack formed into the wood. Drawing back again, he rammed into the door with even more force this time—and it now snapped in half. Ryan raised his gun, walking into the room cautiously, his eyes darting around as he held his gun at the ready. He sensed that he was being followed by Jennifer—at this, he turned around to face her, and shook her head.

"Jennifer, stay behind me—we have no idea what's in here," he told her seriously, walking into the dark building. Jennifer stood behind him, pulling out the gun that was strapped to her hip, and walked in behind him, causing Ryan to roll his eyes at her stubbornness. Yep, Con and Jennifer had been perfect for each other, and their kid had the same damn stubbornness as them.

About ten feet into the building, Ryan smelled the sickeningly familiar scent of blood, and saw the red crimson liquid on the floor. Affirming what he suspected, he heard screams coming from one of the rooms of the building. Instantly, the large soldier ran towards the sound of the scream, and as he came to the room, he saw that there was a soldier, being attacked by three zombies.

Instantly, Ryan shot them all in the head, causing the zombies to let out agonized screams as they fell to the ground, each of them thudding lifelessly onto the floor. After the circle of zombies was dead, the body of the soldier was visible, a bloody mess, coughing up blood, his eyes slightly glazed over. Ryan tan over to see if the soldier was all right, to see if there was anything salvageable. The man was covered in bite marks from the zombies—if they got him back to the hospital in time, and managed to cover the wounds, they could save him.

"Soldier, where's everyone else?" Ryan asked quietly, pushing down one of the many bite marks that was on the man's arm. The soldier struggled to breath, his chest shuddering, coughing up a mixture of blood and phlegm.

"The…the building…was…overrun," the soldier rasped out. "They…they were….everywhere. I was…" But, before the soldier could finish what he was saying, his eyes suddenly glazed over, becoming sightless, lifeless, the last shuddering breath leaving his body.

Ryan closed his eyes, knowing what he had to do. He took his dog tags, before aiming his pistol at the soldier and instantly shooting him right in between the eyes, right as Jennifer walked in and witnessed the deed.

She gasped in shock, running up to Ryan and punching him as hard as she could. "Why would you _do_ that!?" she yelled furiously at him. "He was innocent! He didn't do anything wrong!" She was truly shocked at the fact that Ryan would so heartlessly shoot one of his own men.

Ryan looked into her dark brown eyes with his piercing blue ones unflinchingly. "Anyone that was bitten and 'dies' turns into a zombie. I would rather not risk it happening," he explained, causing her eyes to widen as she understood, and nodded, turning away from the corpse. Ryan then left the room, going back into the main area with the woman alongside him, entering a different room.

However, just as they walked into the room, he saw a few dozen zombies within it, who all turned their heads to face him, their soulless eyes suddenly gaining interest in the two.

Ryan shut the door just in time—the zombies had launched themselves at the door, and were now beating it in fury, screeching and roaring. He quickly picked her up in his strong arms, not wanting to waste any time, as he ran down the hallway as fast as he could, away from the zombies who could possibly break down the door, if they tried hard enough.

Ryan ran down another hallway, which was just about bathed in blood. Everywhere, the crimson substance coated everything—there was blood on the floor, blood on the walls, blood on the objects. The smell was completely overwhelming, causing Jennifer to nearly barf as she quickly turned her head away into Ryan's neck so that she wouldn't see, while Ryan gagged lightly. There was only one way all of this blood could possibly have gotten here, and it wasn't a good way at all.

Gently, he placed Jennifer on the floor, who was still slightly woozy from seeing so much blood in one place. Then, he snapped his head towards the sound of shuffling feet, getting closer and closer to them.

"This way," he told her, grabbing her hand, gently leading her along the bloody hallway. As they ran down the middle of the hallway that was tainted with the red liquid, they saw someone. Ryan sighed in relief at the fact that they'd managed to find somebody.

"Hey, we're here to rescue you!" Ryan called to the man. When the man didn't reply instantly, Ryan peered more closely at the figure, scrutinizing the man.

It was then that the man turned to face them completely, revealing the side of his face that had originally been hidden by his side profile, and the image caused Jennifer to want to scream or to puke—she wasn't sure which she would do. The zombie was missing his right eye, a few nerves still hanging in the hole where it was supposed to be, and there was a large chunk missing from his cheek—the area around the missing flesh was puffy and a sickly gray color, the rest of his skin deathly pale. Those soulless, dead eyes locked onto the two, and he opened his mouth to reveal only a few mere teeth left within it, getting prepared to call the others.

"Jennifer, get ready to run to the stairs," Ryan told her lowly as he caught sight of the stairs, while the first zombie advanced upon them as it screeched, alerting the others of the army of walking dead that there was more flesh for them to feast on. More of the zombies came up behind him, limping slowly towards the two living, breathing humans, nearly surrounding them.

"NOW!" Ryan shouted, instantly aiming his gun and shooting rapidly at the walking dead, in the process beginning to stream curses and insults at them. "Yeah, that's right, assholes, _die_!" he shouted, as the zombies fell around him from being shot in the head.

Instantly, Jennifer dashed as quickly as she could to the stairs behind them, leaving behind Ryan's tirade of curses and foul language. "Yeah, suck my dick, you bastards!" Ryan growled out. "How do you like it when _you're_ the one getting bitch-slapped and ass-whipped!? Huh!? Yeah, that's right, ya pussies, _die_ like the little shits you are!"

The blonde made a mental note to berate him later about his foul language once more.

As she ran up the stairs, she turned around momentarily, expecting to see Ryan coming up behind her, his screams and curses following her. However, she wasn't followed by Ryan—she was being followed by even more of the walking dead.

"Oh-ho, _shit_!" Ryan shouted. "Jennifer, if you can hear me, get to the window closest to the helicopter! Jump out of the window in three minutes—then start the chopper. If I'm not there in five minutes, leave without me." Ryan continued to open fire at the thousands of zombies around him, and Jennifer was only able to see a bit of his jet-black hair among the dead bodies.

She didn't want to leave him behind—Ryan was a close friend of Con's, almost like an uncle to Raiyne, too. But she had to. She had to. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to follow the orders that Ryan had issued to her, and she continued up the stairs.

"I can do this," she told herself, under her breath, fighting back against the instinct that told her to go back and somehow help Ryan. "I…I will _not_ let Raiyne possibly lose both of her parents on the same day."

That thought spurred her on—she knew that her daughter needed her at the moment. She knew that this same thought would keep Con going as well—no matter what, that girl would have both of her parents at the end of the day.

Eventually, Jennifer remembered where she'd landed the helicopter, and found a room with a window closest to that as she closed the door to make sure she was safe. It was then that she heard a light scratching noise as the floorboards creaked—someone else was inside the room.

"Who's there?" Jennifer asked cautiously, raising her pistol instinctually, having it in the ready position, prepared to shoot any of the walking dead if one made its appearance.

However, the one who revealed himself wasn't a zombie—it was another man, who seemed haggard, slightly worn. His reddish-brown hair was dirty, and some blood trickled down from a split lip, and his hazel eyes were cautious as he inspected her. "I'm Gary," he replied. "Who're you?"

Jennifer exhaled in relief, realizing that he wasn't an infected man as she lowered her gun. "I'm Jennifer," she told him. "I…I'm looking for my husband, Con." Her dark brown eyes turned hopeful at the thought of seeing her husband once more. "Have you seen him?"

However, Gary seemed to become uncomfortable, closing his eyes. It seemed that he spoke reluctantly when he replied. "Yes, I did."

When he didn't say anything more, Jennifer prodded him with a gesture. "And? What? Where is he?"

He couldn't meet her hopeful eyes, facing away from her, arms crossed. "He was pulled out the window," he replied, barely able to mumble out the words—hearing Jennifer's gasp made things even harder, but he had to continue. "We…well, _I_, now…heard shots. Then everything went right to hell. I'm sorry for your loss."

The first emotion that Jennifer could register was complete, utter denial, a sudden sense of numbness. It was a dream. It had to be. She'd wake up tomorrow morning, in Con's arms, as he announced that they'd be going to see their daughter the next day in Central City. He'd make a joke about her sister, saying that he hoped that Raiyne hadn't picked up on any of the bad habits of Kiana, which would cause her to smack him, because Kiana was just fine. He would gently kiss her lips, lovingly, tenderly.

But the truth somehow sunk in, and she suddenly uttered a heartbroken wail, falling to the floor in agony, collapsing into a miserable heap onto the floor, breaking down completely at the loss of her husband. Gary had no idea what to do, and awkwardly stood back, allowing the woman to grieve for the man who she'd obviously loved, who was now gone from her life.

Behind the blonde woman, the door broke down, and zombies slowly began to come in, moaning, having been drawn to the spot after the heartbroken wail of Jennifer.

However, the woman made no move against them, still completely agonized at the loss of her love. Her mind wasn't thinking at the moment—all she knew was that Con was, somehow, dead. Why should _she_ keep on living? She wanted nothing more than to simply die, right here and now, be killed by the zombies so that she could meet with her husband in the afterlife. Her daughter was old enough to take care of herself, and she had Kiana to boot. She just wanted to see Con one more time…

Gary realized that the still-grieving woman wasn't making a move against the zombies that were slowly edging closer to her. Quickly, he grabbed Jennifer and pulled her away from the zombies in his wiry arms—however, not before one managed to bite him lightly in the arm, causing him to hiss vehemently in pain as he bit his tongue, accidentally drawing blood.

As he winced in pain, he hissed out, "Quick, out the window!" to Jennifer. He quickly blocked the pain, and smashed the window as hard as he could with his foot, causing the glass to shatter as it fell in a pile of tinkling shards.

Hearing that, somehow, Jennifer suddenly managed to regain her bearings, and shook her head quickly to forget the odd thoughts that she had begun to think. She ran over to the window, jumping out of it daringly, until she landed on the ground with a slight tumble. Gary, after shooting a few of the zombies, quickly made a break for the window as well, jumping out of it.

However, before Gary could escape, the undead men reached out their hands, and managed to catch the already bitten soldier.

Gary began to scream curses at the zombies, causing Jennifer to look up, to see that he was being held by the monsters, slowly being dragged back into the room. She tried to call his name as she jumped into her helicopter with perfect ease, quickly turning on the chopper as she hovered in the air, so that she could see what was going on.

Her eyes widened at the scene that she saw.

Gary was screaming bloody murder as the zombies began to decapitate him, slowly, painfully. He was bleeding profusely, being torn limb from limb, being forced to watch as some of his body parts were eaten right in front of his eyes, body parts that had already been removed from him by the monsters, such as his fingers and toes. Many chunks of his skin were missing as well, from some of the zombies simply biting through his skin and muscle. Blood was all over, which only served to spur the zombies in to a deeper feeding frenzy. Jennifer wished that she could do something, but no one was at the gun, so she couldn't shoot.

And, with a terrible, horrible, sickening _rip!_, Gary's head was torn off from his shoulders.

Jennifer was unable to watch anymore, quickly turning away, forcing back the bile that had begun to rise into her throat. Sorrowfully, she directed the helicopter away from the building, right as Ryan himself ran out from the lower levels. She turned her gaze town, to see that he was being chased by a horde of the monsters, running backwards, shooting them rapidly with his gun, continuously cursing as he yelled.

She twisted the copter so that Ryan could somehow jump in. He turned for a moment, seeing her, and made a mad dash towards the helicopter at the moment, forgetting about the zombies behind him as he agilely jumped into the helicopter at the last moment, before the zombies had managed to completely swarm over him. The monsters were left grabbing the air, moaning and screeching at the fact that they'd lost another meal.

Ryan was panting from his exertion, slumping down onto the metal floor. His arm dropped next to him, and he ran a hand through his black hair quickly as he tried to regain his breath. Sweat was still running down his forehead from both his fear and the physical exertion—he was surprised that he was alive. Blood caked his hair lightly, a few splotches of it on his skin, and he was absolutely filthy. But he was alive and unbitten, and for that, he was grateful.

He then suddenly realized, with a jerk, what he had to tell the woman who was driving the chopper. "Jennifer…I couldn't find Con," he told her quietly, still slightly breathless. "I'm so sorry."

Jennifer fixed her brown eyes straight ahead, not wanting to look at anything else at the moment but the road ahead, as she valiantly fought her own tears back. She flew towards the safezone, before she spoke up.

"One of the soldiers told me what happened to him, before he was killed," she answered thickly, her voice trembling. It hurt so much more to say it aloud, but she needed to say it. "Ryan, he's dead."

And she couldn't stop the torrent of tears that inevitably followed that statement.

**-End Flashback-**

"I'm so sorry that I wasn't back sooner, Raiyne," Jennifer told her daughter gently, while the girl wailed at the news that her father was dead. The blonde woman hugged the young woman closer to her, while Raiyne cried inconsolably into her mother's chest. "They wanted to make sure I was healthy, that I wasn't bitten."

Raiyne was barely able to breathe through her sobs. Sure, it had been absolutely horrible thinking that both of her parents were dead. But having such a fact cemented? Hearing it from her own mother's voice, hearing the tears that she was struggling to hold back, only made it worse.

"Shhh, shhh," Jennifer tried to comfort the distraught girl in her arms—she wondered how she could have _ever_ had even the most fleeting thought that she'd be fine, that she was old enough to take care of herself, that it didn't matter if she lived or died. "I'm here, baby, I'm here. He…he wouldn't want us to be sad, honey, you know he wouldn't."

The teenager couldn't form a reply, unable to stop her tears. It was then that Kiana realized who was at the door—at first, a smile had been on her pretty, freckled face, but then, her features had turned alarmed, seeing that Raiyne was wailing her heart out, and that Jennifer was struggling to hold her own tears in. Instantly, Kiana ran up to her sister.

"What happened, Jen?" she asked softly, concerned for both her niece and her sister. "What's wrong?"

Jennifer steeled her nerves, before she spoke. "Con's dead," she said. The tears surely began to stream down her face at the moment, and Kiana gasped in reply at the news, before biting her lip as she placed a hand on her older sister's back.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, shaking her head. She wrapped her other arm around Raiyne's shuddering shoulders, attempting to give both of the women comfort at the same time.

Neither of the two women were truly aware of the words that had been spoken; they simply sought comfort, and they found it in each other and in their relative. Jennifer continued to stroke Raiyne's hair as she cried her own tears, attempting to calm down the still nearly-hysterical young woman, while Kiana simply stood there for their support, doing all that she could for them at the moment.

After all, broken hearts had to heal on their own time.

* * *

Next time on The Walking Z: a Survivor's Story: The only hint is the title of the chapter: The Thin line between life and death

**And thank you all for reading! :D**


	8. The Thin Line Between Life and Death

I owned Dragon Ball Z. Things didn't end well so I decided to give the rights away. True story.

**And I…I dunno. I don't own DBZ either. I REALLY wish I did. That would be SO awesome :D**

* * *

Everyone has those days where you wake up and know that you're going to have a great day—the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you feel as if everything is going to go absolutely perfectly, just the way you want them to.

Well, today, it was that type of day for Mr. Satan. It was his first day completely off in over six months—which meant no training, no dojo—and it felt amazing. The game was on at noon, and he could be home alone if his daughter wished to hang out with her friends. Nothing could ruin his great mood at the moment.

The World Savior jumped out of his bed, unable to wipe the grin off of his face at the moment. He quickly put on his clothes, before he went down the stairs to the kitchen. The cook had already laid out a breakfast full of bacon, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and more. Hercule grabbed a plate, and served himself a large serving of bacon and pancakes with a smile, humming a happy tune under his breath.

He sat down in his chair. Right as he sat down, however, and began to take a bite of food, his daughter jumped down the stairs, spilling some syrup on the table as she accidentally bumped into it. She quickly apologized, but he didn't mind, picking it up from off of the floor and yelling for one of the many butlers to clean the sticky mess off of the table.

Videl began to serve herself as Hercule grabbed his bacon again, taking a bite out of it. Right as his teeth came down on the meat, however, someone rang the doorbell. The shock of this caused him to bite his tongue.

"Mister Satan," a butler said, carrying a towel in his hand as he prepared to clean the spilled syrup. He looked a little shaken by whatever he'd seen. "Somebody is at the door, and he says that you hired him."

"Who did you hire, Dad?" Videl asked her father, beginning her breakfast that consisted of a pancake and a piece of bacon. If she wanted more, she would surely take more, but it was enough for now. As she asked, Mr. Satan had to run through his head a quick list of people who he'd remembered hiring. His eyes widened as he realized who this must be.

"Bring him inside," Mr. Satan ordered, yelling through the house, and another butler wasted no time in opening the door and allowing the very intimidating-looking man inside of the house.

Videl's eyes widened as she saw who suddenly entered her house. This man was a huge, hulking behemoth of a man, standing at six feet and four inches tall, and was completely packed with muscle, like a bodybuilder. He had jet-black hair that was stick straight, but seemed to have been cut recently—it wasn't a buzz cut, but it was rather short, more like a crew cut. This man had an extremely large, powerful jaw, coupled with very sharp and angular features, and a pair of piercing and determined blue eyes. The one thing that seemed to make him even more intimidating than his sheer muscle mass were the scars that were also present on his face. A large scar awkwardly crossed the bridge of his nose, and another dark one ran jaggedly across his forehead—there was also a slight slash on his cheek as well. All in all, this man did _not_ seem too be someone that you wanted to mess with.

"Hello, Mister Satan," the man said, politely nodding his head at the World Champion.

"Ah, hello, Mister Ford, I believe?" Hercule replied, causing the man to nod once more. Mr. Satan smiled. "Excellent. Mister Ford, I hope you know what to do?" As he spoke, he grabbed some more pancakes for himself with his fork.

Mr. Ford nodded once again. "Yes, sir. My job is to follow Miss Satan around, and make sure that no infected individuals attack her."

Upon hearing this, Videl choked on a piece of her pancake, turning a pair of furious sapphire eyes to her father and to the new man._"What?"_ she hissed venomously. "_NO_, Dad. I will _not_ have…" She then turned towards the man, a forced smile on your face, her teeth grinding against each other in her annoyance. "What's your name?"

"Ryan," the man answered, arms crossed against his extremely muscular chest.

"Thanks." She then turned back to her father, blue eyes absolutely livid. "I will _not_ have Ryan _follow_ me around to _protect_ me from some _fake_ sickness. Heh, I'm sure that I could take whatever these things are anyways."

However, Mr. Satan didn't crack a smile, and he turned towards the newcomer. "Ryan," he began quietly, "please, explain to my daughter what you saw."

Ryan closed his eyes as he remembered the battlefield, as he remembered all that he'd witnessed. All the fellow soldiers who'd had to be killed because they'd been infected, hearing about Con's death by the zombies… "I…I saw people," Ryan began, not wanting to relive the situation, but forced to at the moment. "The people had fatal wounds, wounds that would have made them bleed to death—but they were walking around, and ripping people apart and eating them." The sound of flesh tearing, of munching, chewing, of agonized screams of the victims who were still living…. He shook his head to clear it away, and Videl's eyes were skeptical at first, but began to widen as he continued. "We found only one way that we could kill them—by destroying their brain." How many soldiers had he had to shoot in the head for becoming infected? People who never _wanted_to be infected, people with families, lives… "So, unless you're planning to crush their skulls in, miss, I'll be the one protecting you."

Videl would have thought, at any other moment, that he was bluffing. But the truth shone in Ryan's blue eyes—regret, sorrow, the shadow of seeing things that one should never see. For a brief moment, she felt a burst of pity—he'd had to see all of that? Then, she quickly shook her head, and defiantly held her chin up.

"I understand," she muttered out. "But that doesn't mean that I have to like this whole thing. Just follow me and don't bug me." With that, Videl stormed out of the door, not paying her father a backwards glance, annoyed with the fact that her father hadn't asked her about something like this first.

As she walked to school, she began to mutter to herself in her annoyance, while Ryan was forced to follow her—it was his job to protect her. As he followed the young woman, he heard her grumbling things under her breath.

"Dad thinks I can't take care of myself, and _then_ I have Gohan to deal with," she muttered, this statement causing Ryan to raise an eyebrow. "Oooh, when I _find_ that boy, I'm going to _kill_ him. Yeah, that's right, Gohan. First, you have the _nerve_ to kiss me and then _run off_. _Then_, you don't tell me about you being a prince. I don't care if you're nice and caring and said really nice things about me before. I_will_ kill you." She remembered what he'd said about her on public television, but she didn't care at the moment.

Ryan was hearing this whole rant, and couldn't help but smirk. However, he didn't comment on it, deciding to just enjoy the show. Man, when she went on her rants, she sometimes reminded him of how Jennifer would sometimes go into a rant at Con for some miniscule thing—

She'd never be able to do that anymore, since Con was gone. He forced that thought away from his mind as he closed his eyes.

"So what if you can fly, run at inhuman speeds, and crack freaking walls with your skull and be fine?" Videl continued to hiss under her breath, clenching her tiny palms, unaware of the pain behind her at the moment. "I'm still the second strongest person in the world there is, right next to my dad. Those little tricks won't work on me."

Ryan shook himself out of the memory that he'd been reliving, and turned towards Videl—he decided that now was a good time to speak up. She seemed to be getting extremely absorbed in this rant of hers, and he didn't want to relive the things he was at the moment.

"Miss Satan," he began, "I'm sorry that I have to follow you around. I know that you don't enjoy it. But since I am the one with the most experience with these…things, your father wanted you to be protected by the best. Not that I'm saying that _I'm_ the best, but I definitely have the most experience, and can actually protect you." As he spoke, he caught up to her, walking at her side.

Videl suddenly realized that he was there, and she blushed lightly, wondering how much of the rant that he'd heard. She shrugged, absentmindedly, before she entered the school building, the crowd of students nearly knocking her back.

From inside the throng of students, a certain teenaged demi-Saiyan caught sight of the two—his dark eyes cautiously watched as Videl was followed into the school by a man with a gun, but he didn't comment at the moment, trying to blend into the crowd. However, before he could hope that she'd pass by him without seeing him, a certain lavender-haired young man decided at this time to call for his best friend.

"Hey, Gohan!" Mirai called, walking up to his friend. He suppressed a groan, turning to see that Mirai was walking towards him, the prince's blue eyes seeming a bit confused as he scanned the crowd.

Gohan also saw that a furious Videl was being held back by the man with the gun.

His instincts kicked in—completely ignoring Mirai at the moment, he ran as fast as he could over to where Videl was, only seeing that she was being held back by a man with a _gun_. A low growl built up lightly in his throat as he suddenly appeared in front of the man, quickly punching the man's arm to loosen its grip from the gun, throwing him to the ground. He then turned towards Videl as if nothing had happened, his onyx eyes concerned.

"Are you okay, Videl?" he asked, lightly looking her over with his gaze. "I saw the man with the gun grabbing you…"

Upon realizing that he'd been trying to protect her, Videl sighed a bit, while Ryan pushed himself up off of the floor from behind her, casting Gohan a nasty look. "Gohan," she began quietly (Ryan's eyes widened as he realized that this was the boy who she'd been muttering about before), "this man is here to _protect_ me from the_virus_…or whatever it is. He was stopping me from attacking you. But…" Her voice got even quieter, if possible. "Thanks for trying to save me, even though I didn't need it." Her voice was a mere whisper as she blushed the slightest bit.

"Um…any time?" Gohan replied, confused at what had just transpired as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Girls were completely impossible to understand.

Suddenly, Videl snapped right back into interrogation mode, her blue eyes igniting with fire once more. "So, Gohan," she began, holding up her hand, "you're a prince." She began to list things, ticking them off with a new finger that she extended from her fist. "You can fly. You can run at impossible speeds—and not seem to get tired. You can hit brick walls, and not die, or at least suffer a major concussion." She looked at him suspiciously, and suddenly pinned him against a wall (this action caused Ryan to raise a slightly intrigued eyebrow at what was transpiring). "Is there anything else that you're hiding from me that you'd like to tell me, Gohan?"

"No, nothing, Videl, I swear," Gohan told her, trying to break free from her strong grip without hurting her with his superior strength.

"Videl, can you stop trying to kill Gohan for a few seconds?" the slightly sarcastic remark from Mirai suddenly came from behind her, causing her to turn and glare at the lavender-haired young man. This action caused Mirai to smirk—he cast a confused glance at Ryan, before shrugging it off, going up to Gohan and Videl. "We should be heading to class, anyway. By the way, have any of you seen Raiyne? She usually comes to school early."

At this, Gohan turned thoughtful. "Huh. No, I haven't seen her," he noted. He also couldn't sense her energy in the vicinity, which was odd.

Upon the mention of Raiyne's name, Ryan's blue eyes widened. "Raiyne comes to this school?" he asked curiously.

Mirai glared suspiciously at the newcomer. "Yes, she does," he replied guardedly. "Why? Do you know her?"

Ryan nodded solemnly. "In fact, I do. She…she's probably not gonna come back to school for a little while." He turned his head away, shaking away the memories. He'd stopped by Kiana's house to pay the family of Con a visit—he'd also begun to visit Kiana sporadically lately, having grown accustomed to the redhead's feisty personality, which matched his own. He'd walked in upon a grieving mother and daughter, both holding each other—he couldn't do anything but stand by them, offering them silent comfort. He'd talked to Kiana later on, while the other two females were still grieving over the loss of their loved one. Ryan absentmindedly realized that he'd been talking a bit more often to his best friend's sister-in-law…

The three teenagers looked at each other, confused. "Why not?" Gohan spoke up, curious.

"It's not my place to say," Ryan told them seriously. "When she comes back, if she wants to tell you, then she will. Don't pressure her into anything, all right?"

Mirai didn't seem to trust him still, but consented. "Fine," he muttered out. "_Forgive_ us for wondering about her whereabouts." With that, he walked away, annoyed with Ryan at the moment. Ryan simply did nothing but look at the retreating form of the handsome young man, exchanging a look with the other two teens that stated that he wasn't sure why the boy was suddenly getting all defensive.

"He's just…" Gohan struggled to find a word to describe his best friend. Mirai had been through so much, so sometimes, he wasn't exactly a "people" person; he also still harbored slight animosity for humans in general, having made a few exceptions in the school. "That's how he works."

Ryan nodded, dropping the subject. "Didn't he say that you needed to get to class?" he inquired. "You should get going."

* * *

"Mrs. Briefs," one of the doctors began, turning as he spoke to the blue-haired heiress who had walked in a few moments ago, asking for an update on the project for a cure for this mysterious illness, "we studied the cells that you collected for us. We've determined that…they are not from his planet." The doctor seemed uneasy as he continued. "They're unlike anything we've ever seen before…"

"Huh," Bulma said under her breath, walking up to the microscope that was near the doctor. He backed up so that she could have room, and looked through the tool. She watched as there were thousands of tiny microorganisms, all colored a sickly grayish hue, swam around in the solution. Some of them were…_eating_ each other, completely engulfing each other, before splitting in half, making more of their own. Constantly duplicating, but voiding that action by consuming each other, sometimes even one of its own daughter cells.

"Well, guys," she stated, pulling back from the slightly gross sight, "I'll be in my office if you need anything." She then left the room, going back to her office, absentmindedly wondering how her boys were doing.

And, unnoticed by everyone, outside in the green lawn of Capsule Corporation, there was a large hole where the freshly covered earth of Yamcha's grave used to be. The coffin was completely destroyed, and the corpse was missing.

Yamcha was walking around in a haze, holding the odd hole in his neck. His eyes still wore that dead, yet piecing look, and it seemed more like he was stumbling about than walking. He unconsciously searched for an energy, and began to limp towards the one that was closest to him—the extremely weak one of Dr. Briefs.

Dr. Briefs was in his own office, absentmindedly looking at a set of blueprints that were on his desk. He was making some minor changes to the design, while he marveled at the genius of both him and his daughter—he was proud at how intelligent his daughter was, how she was able to invent such things, just like he had done. She truly had a natural knack for it—it caused him to smile.

He then heard his door opening—looking up in intrigue, he was pleasantly surprised to see Yamcha at the door. Yes, the boy _did_ look rather worse for wear…but he was talking around! They must have resurrected him with the Dragon Balls, and he smiled as the scarred man walked into the room.

"Hello, Yamcha," the genius greeted politely. "Let me guess—they used the Dragon Balls on you?" He once again noticed that Yamcha seemed to be walking oddly—he also began to behave oddly, as well. In reply, the former bandit moaned unintelligibly, grabbing the air, his glazed eyes unfocused, not looking at Dr. Briefs. Upon seeing him move his arm, Dr. Briefs noticed the infected wound on his shoulder.

Yamcha, let me look at your arm," Dr. Briefs said, walking up to the black-haired man inside of the room with him. "It looks infected." As he spoke, he gently grabbed Yamcha's arm, beginning to inspect the grayish-tinged wound on his shoulder that had stopped its bleeding. It was a disgusting blood clot now, seeming to have just stopped bleeding, and he turned away for a moment, in slight disgust.

It was all the time that Yamcha needed.

Quicker than Dr. Briefs could register, Yamcha sudden whipped around, grabbing the old man, before taking a bite out of his neck. Instinctually, Dr. Briefs tried to scream, but the noise was cut off by a gurgle, blood suddenly forming around his throat. He fell to the floor, gasping and gurgling, spitting out his own crimson blood as it stained the tiles, while Yamcha simply looked on with those hauntingly intense dead eyes.

The scar-faced warrior then turned his head sharply, feeling out any other energies. He felt the ones closest to him—a whole group of them. A feast.

Then, he began to slowly move towards the medical facilities.

* * *

"Kakarot."

The word left the Saiyan prince's mouth abruptly as he dodged his opponent's fierce roundhouse kick, instinctually shooting an energy blast at his face. His head whipped towards the side in shock and confusion, his stoic features pensive.

"What is it, Vegeta?" Goku replied, deflecting the blast that had been sent his way, not attacking his friend. The elder Saiyan's face held mixed emotions of disbelief, confusion, and curiosity—it was an odd expression.

"The old man's energy disappeared," Vegeta answered.

"What old man?"

"The woman's father. His energy just…disappeared."

"Oh, you mean Doctor Briefs…huh, that's weird…"

"Let's check it out," Vegeta announced, going over to the G.R. controls and disengaging the gravity. While he did so, he slowly decreased his own power level, which he had raised during the spar with the third-class warrior. Goku followed suit, slightly disappointed at the fact that they wouldn't be able to finish their spar at the moment. However, he couldn't lie—he was also curious about what had happened to Dr. Briefs.

"Vegeta, you go on ahead," Goku decided, wanting to get out of his slightly sweaty clothes. "I'm going to change." The Saiyan prince nodded as the younger man walked into the locker room to grab another set of clothes, while Vegeta walked away towards the office where he'd last felt the doctor's energy, before it suddenly disappeared.

Goku walked out of the locker room, donning a fresh set of clothing. Wanting to catch up to Vegeta, the Earth-raised Saiyan ran down the hallway, and accidentally ran into a familiar figure.

"Sorry, Yamcha," he apologized, completely forgetting the fact that the man had been buried two days ago. He was too harried to begin to wonder. He didn't notice how Yamcha tried to grab his leg—he was going too fast to even register that a swipe had been taken at him. Yamcha simply gazed at the hurrying man, before he continued his journey to easier prey.

Rounding a corner and entering a room, Goku saw the Saiyan prince standing over a set of blueprints, his dark eyes critically scanning them. Goku didn't realize that he was stepping in something warm and sticky, looking at his friend. "So, didya find Doctor Briefs?"

Vegeta was staring at the blueprints, and on the floor. Goku looked down, and registered that he was lightly touching a trail of blood. His own onyx eyes followed the trail that it left, going outside of the room.

"I didn't find him, Kakarot," Vegeta told him, "but I found that blood trail." In silent agreement, the two Saiyans began to follow the trail of red blood, their enhanced sense of smell forcing them to inhale the scent with much more intensity than either of them wanted to. They walked through Capsule Corporation, until they were brought outside. And then, they finally reached the hole where Yamcha's grave used to be.

"Something isn't right here, Kakarot," Vegeta growled out, suspiciously looking into the hole. It looked as if it had been freshly dug up, and Vegeta knelt down to inspect it lightly. His fingers trailed along the freshly turned dirt, while Goku stood behind him, looking down into the hole. "Scarface's grave looks like it's been…broken _out_of, not broken into."

It suddenly hit Goku like a ton of bricks. "That reminds me," he gasped out, shocked, "I _did_ see Yamcha when I was running towards you."

Vegeta's eyes snapped towards his comrade, honestly stunned into silence by the idiocy of the third-class warrior at the moment. "WHAT THE HELL!?" he shouted in Goku's face. "Where was he going?!"

"Um…towards the medical area," Goku replied, confused, rubbing the back of his head. "Why?"

* * *

_On Planet Xozor, 25 years earlier…_

_"Nappa, what does the scouter say about these weaklings?"_

_The teenaged prince turned towards his bodyguard, his tail lashing out behind him as he looked up at the extremely thick, bald man. The brown appendage rewrapped around his waist again on instinct, and the young man crossed his arms in a pose that would become traditional for him. He still had the slight remnants of bangs, which he seemed to be just finishing growing out._

_Nappa clicked the side of his blue scouter, and his dark eyes widened in surprise. "There…there isn't a reading, Prince Vegeta," he returned in confusion. He pressed the button again, not sure if his scouter was malfunctioning—but it said that there was no reading. Even the tiniest little things had a faint blip on the scouter—however, these things said that there was absolutely no energy coming from them._

_"Wait…what are they doing?" the hulking warrior suddenly asked, intently watching the group of the Saiyan-like aliens that were cornered in one specific area. He and the prince had been purging the planet per Frieza's order, but then they had come across this, and wanted to investigate. It had been one of the creatures running away from a group of them with a piercing shriek. A second later, the others in the group pounced on the lone runner, while the single person screamed._

_"I think…I think that they're eating the one who was running," Vegeta replied as he looked closer. His own voice was slightly shocked at the monstrosity of the creatures—they were tearing him apart, limb from limb, in front of his own eyes, feasting on his flesh while he was forced to watch. One of his eyes had been ripped out of its socket, and his flesh was disappearing by the second, but he wasn't dead yet._

_Vegeta knew that he had killed many people—ruthlessly purged planets, smiled while he had tortured people with his own hands. However, he never recalled eating a person in front of their own eyes—it seemed a more horrid death than what he made others suffer. It was absolutely repulsive to watch._

_"What the hell did you mean?" Vegeta asked sharply, turning towards Nappa. "When you said that they didn't have a ki signature?"_

_"The only one that had a ki signature was the one who was running—the one that they're now eating," Nappa replied, a slight look of disgust on his face as well as he witnessed the scene. It wasn't the screams of the man that made them disgusted—it was just the fact that he was, literally, being eaten alive._

_"What the hell's with this planet?" Vegeta muttered under his breath, turning away from the display. "We need to tell Frieza about this."_

* * *

Vegeta blinked as he jolted out of the memory—he remembered_exactly_ where he'd seen something like this before. No _ki_ to speak of, other energies suddenly disappearing…it was akin to the situation on Xozor.

This wasn't going to turn out well.

"Kakarot, we have to split up," Vegeta said, his voice clipped and stern. "Follow the blood trail from the old man's office, see if it leads anywhere. I wasn't able to check it out completely."

Goku nodded. "What're _you_ gonna do, Vegeta?"

The Saiyan prince had already begun to turn around, to begin his dash to the medical area. He turned around, briefly making eye-contact with the third-class dog, his onyx eyes full of intensity. "I'll try to find Scarface."

* * *

"Oh, Mrs. Briefs!" one of the doctors exclaimed, hearing the doorknob turning, the door opening. "We weren't expecting you to return so soon!" This doctor wore a smile on his face as he went up to the door, preparing to greet the blue-haired heiress.

He got an honest shock when the beautiful woman didn't enter the room—instead, the sight that greeted him was a slightly ashen-faced, lifeless-looking black-haired man, with two scars on his face, one across his eye and a crisscross on his cheek. The doctor was surprised at this sight, and what surprised him more was the disgusting-looking chunk of flesh missing from the man's shoulder, which seemed infected, with a sickly gray color around the wound.

Yamcha stumbled into the room, causing the doctor to cautiously back up from him. However, that action wouldn't be able to save him.

Faster than he could see, Yamcha's hand shot out, and grabbed the doctor. Right before the doctor could even defend himself, Yamcha sank his still slightly bloody teeth into the flesh of the doctor's neck, causing the man to let out an ear-piercing scream.

All of the doctor instantly turned at the sound of their colleague screaming, and saw the man drop the doctor on the floor, licking his bloody teeth with relish. It was then that he pounced—they never stood a chance.

During this, Bulma had been catching up on some paperwork, and had decided to listen to music while she was doing so. She'd popped her earbuds into her ears, putting her iPod on one of the albums that she liked, unable to hear anything outside as she absentmindedly sang along with the songs. As such, she hadn't heard the screaming.

When the album finally finished completely, Bulma began to scroll through her playlists absentmindedly. As she scrolled through her playlists, however, she suddenly realized that there was an eerie silence next door, where the doctors had been working. She was confused—there was always some noise next door from the doctors, who were always talking with each other, sharing discoveries or helping each other out. They had been especially loud all day, as well, because they had eagerly been inspecting the samples that she'd given them—they always loved a challenge.

She turned her blue eyes towards the clock on her desk. None of them had any type of break, either, for at least an hour or so. As such, Bulma was slightly unnerved by the sudden silence—she decided to go investigate.

She left her office, placing her iPod on her desk, and instantly covered her nose against the sudden stench that wafted its way into her room. The stench, the sickening iron stench of blood, was almost overpowering, and she went back into her room completely. She quickly grabbed a bat from her room, in case someone had broken into her offices, which seemed to be the case here. Either that, or one of the doctors had accidentally cut himself, and they had all rushed him to the infirmary.

For some sickening reason, she didn't believe that the latter was the case here.

Cautiously, Bulma approached the closed door, holding the wooden bat in her right hand, tense. And she felt bile rise into her throat upon the scene that she came upon.

Her coworkers' bodies were all thrown around the room, the remnants of their dying screams still on their faces, and there was blood. Blood, everywhere, staining almost every square inch of the place, seeming to cover the normally pristine white room in red paint. Many of them were missing limbs and chunks of their skin, some of them missing eyes, some of them brutally ripped in half. Their innards were splattered all around the place, along with thrown limbs. Bulma turned around and instantly vomited as she knelt down, unable to take the sight anymore, the stench of blood overpowering everything, the bodies of her coworkers thrown around like trash…

Eventually, she regained her bearings enough to stand up on slightly shaky knees, her grip on her bat slackening. She turned her head, and saw a surprisingly familiar figure standing in the corner. The figure wore an orange _gi_, and his black hair was cut short in a familiar style. A bite mark was on his shoulder, and the wound seemed infected. When she recognized who it was, she nearly cried out in joy and relief.

Then, she realized that he wasn't looking at her, and that there was an odd sound coming from his direction. She suddenly became uneasy, and hesitantly called his name.

"Yamcha?"

He turned slightly, and what happened next horrified the blue-haired woman.

He was holding a doctor captive in his grasp—the doctor was wheezing, trying to scream, his face contorted in pain, but his vocal chords had been ripped out, a huge hole in his neck where they should be. Blood was oozing constantly from the wound, and slight gurgling sounds also came from his throat, along with the wheezes, as blood trickled out from the doctor's mouth.

Quick as lightning, Yamcha suddenly plunged his hand into the man's chest, eliciting another gurgle of agony from the man, before he ripped out his heart. Then, the black-haired man promptly took a large bite from the bloody, still faintly-pulsing organ of the doctor, while the captive's eyes lost their life. The heiress nearly fainted at the sight, from pure disgust and horror.

Slowly, though, Yamcha's eyes met hers—those cold, dark, lifeless depths that held such sudden intensity within them. He pulled the man's heart away from his mouth—Bulma was still able to hear the squelching of the organ between his teeth. He suddenly allowed crazed, insane grin to spread across his face, revealing his bloody teeth, the blood that smeared his mouth and hands and clothes. He dropped the man's heart, and took a step towards the blue-haired woman, licking his blood-stained teeth and lips.

Bulma screamed.

* * *

Vegeta had been running down the halls, trying to find the weakling human before something bad happened. He was forcing himself not to worry, telling himself that the weakling probably hadn't done any damage…

So why did he feel that everything was about to go downhill?

As he sprinted down the hallways, he ran into his youngest son. Trunks had been going to find his older brother, wanting to play a bit with the teenager, who he knew had been meditating a bit outside. Upon seeing his father in the house, however, he grinned at the stoic man, glad that he was out of the G.R. temporarily.

Vegeta looked at the boy, slightly relieved that he hadn't seemed to notice anything amiss. His senses weren't nearly as in-tune as the eldest prince's were, and Mirai obviously wasn't used to the feeling of his grandparents' energies yet, or the energies of these humans. As such, neither of his sons had sensed all of the energies suddenly becoming nonexistent.

"Hi, Dad!" Trunks said, grinning as he went up to his father. Much to the little boy's surprise, Vegeta suddenly picked him up. Trunks stared at his father in shock as he was held by the Saiyan's hip by his strong arm—his father had _never_ picked him up before. He had to admit, though, that he liked it, and he grinned as he placed his palm on one of his father's broad shoulders, leaning his cheek against it as he contentedly closed his eyes. He didn't think anything was wrong at the moment, just enjoying the rarity of the action that his dad was doing.

Seeing his son, so calm and peaceful, managed to calm Vegeta down the slightest bit. The shadow of a smirk crossed his handsome features, before it disappeared instantly. "Son," he began, causing Trunks to crack a blue eye open—the blue eyes that were the same hue as Bulma's. "I need you to go to Kakarot's house for a little while."

"Why?" Trunks asked, absentmindedly playing with his father's lightly chipped armor that he sometimes wore when he sparred. "I mean, it'd be great to see Goten again…"

Vegeta closed his eyes. "Just do as I tell you, Trunks," he told him quietly, his voice assertive. "Find your older brother, and ask him to take you there. He flies faster than you."

"But…what do I tell Aunty Chi-Chi?" he asked. "When Mirai and I just show up?"

"Tell the harpy that something important has come up," the eldest prince said to his son, "and that your mother was unable to call."

Now, Trunks was getting the slightest bit worried, able to pick out the tiniest hints of uneasiness in his father's tone. However, he didn't question what his father said, and simply rested on his shoulder for a few more moments, before Vegeta put him down. Surprisingly gently, he nudged his son in the general direction of where he was able to sense the elder boy. Casting one last, slightly worried glance towards his father, he lightly levitated to find his brother. A few moments later, Vegeta heard the font door closing, and he knew that the boy was going to Mirai, who was meditating in the gardens.

When he was sure that neither of his sons would be in the house, he sprinted down the hallway, past the G.R. The odd thing was, he felt no inclination to even enter it—training, at the moment, was the last thing on his mind. He felt no regret that he hadn't been able to finish the spar with Kakarot. He passed right by the Gravity Chamber as if it wasn't even there.

And that was when he heard it. The sound of his wife, screaming bloody murder, shrieking at the top of her lungs for help. Shrieking for him, calling his name.

He reacted instinctually, powering up to his Super Saiyan form in a flash of brilliant golden light. His onyx hair turned golden in that instant, his tanned skin turning a shade lighter in the unearthly light that was surrounding him, his obsidian eyes instantly transforming into turquoise. He shot towards the sound of his wife without a second thought.

"I'm coming, Bulma!" he shouted, so that she knew that her plea hadn't fallen on deaf ears, so that she knew that he was coming for her. He blasted through the hallways of his house, following the sound of his mate's screams, following the faint energy that belonged to her. And was he hallucinating…or was it dropping? This thought caused him to go even faster.

He dashed inside of the room where she was, the stench of blood overwhelming at the moment. He hadn't smelled so much blood in one place since his days with Frieza…

Any and all thoughts of such things dashed out of his head when he saw a man in the room, pinning his screaming wife down on the floor.

A flash of red fury caused Vegeta to nearly snap at what he thought was happening. He let out a roar, and in an instant, he kicked the man on top of her so hard that his skull broke open, causing the man to fly away from the blue-haired woman, who was now gasping. He turned, his teal eyes taking in his surroundings quick as lightning—dead bodies were all around, mutilated beyond belief…and the man's skull he'd just crushed in had been Yamcha's.

He honestly hadn't seen so much carnage since his time in Frieza's servitude…all of the blood, the mutilated, destroyed bodies, were bringing back memories that he'd rather forget…

On the floor, however, Bulma let out a gasp, causing Vegeta to snap his gaze down to her, kneeling down next to her body in an instant. She was gripping her arm tightly—the prince realized that red blood was seeping through her fingers from a wound. Being surprisingly gentle, he picked her head up lightly, placing it in his lap as he sat on his heels and knees.

"Vegeta…" she rasped out, managing to open her blue eyes, gasping lightly. "Y-you came…"

"Of course I came, foolish woman," Vegeta scoffed in reply—there was no edge at all to his voice, which was surprisingly quiet, soft.

She managed a grin, before she let out another gasp of pain, gripping her arm even more tightly. Her breath was coming in labored pants now, and she looked up at him once more with those lovely blue eyes, those eyes that had made him wonder if it was possible to drown in the depths of one's eyes. If anyone's eyes could drown him, it was hers—her blue eyes portrayed every single bit of emotion, holding nothing back.

"Vegeta…it hurts so much," she whispered out, her eyes beginning to fill with tears from the pain. "Make it…make it go away…please…"

Before she'd even told him to, he had begun feeding her some of his energy, lightly encasing both of them in a golden glow. However, this didn't seem to help her much—she continued to gasp, and Vegeta suddenly froze as he realized that she'd been bitten. What had happened on Xozor was becoming agonizingly real. The dead walked around, eating the living. If one of the living wasn't eaten, and was bitten by the walking dead, the venom would enter through the bloodstream, and you would die, no matter what. And you would become one of their ranks as well.

"You…you look like an angel, honey," Bulma whispered, gently reaching up an arm to touch his face, to caress his skin. His own free hand unknowingly had fisted into her blue hair, his other hand supporting her head lightly. Vegeta was unable to formulate a reply, while Bulma's breaths got weaker and weaker, gasping occasionally in pain.

"Sweetheart…it's okay," she whispered, knowing what was going through his mind. "It's the only…it's the only way…"

"_No,"_ Vegeta hissed in reply, shaking his head. "There _has_ to be another solution—there's _always_ another solution." His eyes darted around the room, nearly frantic but managing to keep it inside of him. He caught sight of a green Senzu bean conveniently on the counter—his free arm darted out to catch it, moving from Bulma's hair for a few moments, before he gently placed the bean in between her lips.

"Eat the bean, woman," Vegeta ordered her gruffly. Bulma tried to chew it, but her jaw wouldn't work, and the bean fell out limply from between her teeth. Not wanting to waste any time, Vegeta crushed the bean into smaller pieces that were easily able to be swallowed with his bare fist, before shoving them back into her mouth once more. She weakly swallowed the lumps, and he waited.

Nothing happened. Her gasps only became weaker, and the wound didn't close, blood still pouring out from it.

"No, the bean _will_ work," he growled out, shutting his eyes as he fiercely shook his head. "It will."

"Vegeta…honey…" Bulma's voice was even weaker now as she looked up at her husband. "You know you have to do it…it's the only way…I don't wanna become one of them, and possibly hurt you and our sons…it's the only solution…"

There _had_ to be another way. He couldn't…he couldn't…

Bulma's blue eyes began to fill up with tears once more, becoming red-rimmed, as she smiled tremblingly at him. "It'll be all right, sweetheart," she reassured him, caressing his cheek. Unconsciously, he began to power down from his Super Saiyan transformation, his hair reverting to black, eyes turning back to obsidian. She smiled as she took him in—his tanned, handsome features, his black, flame-shaped alien mane, and his intense, bottomless eyes…

"I promise, it'll be fine," she told him softly, accepting what had to be done, a few tears making their escape from her eyes. They were silent as they fell down the sides of her face, falling onto his spandex pants and into his palm. "I want the pain to end…and I don't want to become one of them…"

He stared blankly at her, understanding what had to be done. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but…what else could be done? She was in pain, in agony, and if she bled to death, she'd become one of the walking dead.

"Please, Vegeta…my prince…my king…" As she spoke, she lovingly, tenderly caressed his skin. His hand met hers lightly as it rested on his cheek. He gripped her fingers slightly, struggling to convey what he wanted to with words, unable to say anything at the moment. However, he did nod, showing that he knew what he had to do. At the last comment that she'd made to him, Vegeta closed his eyes for a moment, before gratefully looking into her shiny blue eyes as the tears constantly poured from them.

Thankful that he would go through with it, Bulma closed her eyes, accepting her fate. "Vegeta…I love you so much," she told him truthfully, while his hand went back down to gently caress her pale cheek, before fisting lightly in her blue hair once more. He brought down his head, touching his lips to hers for a few moments, while she responded, albeit weakly, but still with enough sadness and pain to convey the hopelessness of the situation.

It was agonizing for him to pull away, but he managed to do so, somehow. Then the prince bent down lightly, his lips gently brushing against her cheek, his mouth at her ear. He whispered something in her ear that he'd never uttered in his lifetime, never thought that he'd utter. But he managed to say them.

"I love you, Bulma."

Hearing those words, a sudden, bright smile overcame her features, and she opened her eyes, looking up at her husband, her love, tears spilling out from them even more so now. She never thought that she'd hear those words from him…. He stared for as long as he could into her beautiful blue eyes, before she finally closed them again, exhausted, waiting, the remnants of tear-streaks visible on her face and cheeks, a peaceful look on her beautiful features.

And, as quick as he could, before he could second-guess himself, and so that she wouldn't feel any pain, the Saiyan prince snapped his blue-haired wife's neck.

* * *

"Attention; the obligation to attend Orange Star High School has been canceled until further notice. There was an attack on West City, and we are still getting the details about the situation as we speak. God bless your souls."

* * *

Next time on The Walking Z: A Survivor's Story: Zombies are attacking West City. Vegeta had to kill his own wife. It's an all out race against time to see if Vegeta and Goku can avoid the same fate.

**Guys, this last part was utterly AGONIZING for me to write…I feel terrible for enjoying writing it X3 thanks for reading, and please review! :D**


	9. Till death due us part

**UmbreonGodOfHalo: I KNOW, I didn't want her to die, either, but it has a point, trust me X3 and thanks for liking the story so much, Captain and I really appreciate it :D it's no problem to write this story, it's really fun to do :D glad that you like it so much.**

**pir84lyf: Thanks! And here's more! X3**

**KnightLyte: Wow, thanks for all of the compliments! Thanks for all of the kind words, Captain and I really appreciate it all :D we're glad you like it so much. And you didn't have to wait long! Here's the next update, hope you enjoy! :D (also, a side-note…if you like Gohan/Videl as a pairing, maybe you'd like to check out my story, In These Moments. This is RaiynetheHedgehog, by the way X3 just putting it out there. Does that make me sound conceited and desperate? I hope it doesn't X3)**

Marlen2445: I know it is sad and good at the same time. That is what we were going to.

If I owned Dragon Ball Z I would be living in a much larger house.

**And if I owned Dragon Ball Z…well, let's just say that I'd make a few little, minor changes that I'm sure us fangirls would love X3**

**Also, warning—this chapter contains foul language. Yes, the "f" word is used here, so…yeah, that's all. X3**

* * *

Goku had been hot on the trail of Dr. Briefs, following the path of blood that moved from his office. He'd gone down numerous hallways, which seemed like a huge maze to him; he had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get to Dr. Briefs, and fast, because he had a feeling things would go downhill.

It was then that he heard Bulma's shriek for help.

He stopped suddenly, upon hearing his lifelong friend's cry. He felt for her energy, and, to his great disturbance, it was rather low, seeming to be fading away. However, Vegeta was there, having suddenly powered up into a Super Saiyan to reach his wife, and Goku was sure that Bulma would be fine with her husband there. With that thought in mind, he continued to follow Dr. Briefs' trail.

When Bulma's ki only became weaker and weaker as time passed, however, Goku knew something was desperately wrong. There was something odd about Vegeta's own energy as well…it was tainted with something. He couldn't tell _what_ it was tainted with, but it was a powerful emotion, something that the Saiyan prince rarely felt. He decided that Bulma's situation was more dire than following Mr. Briefs.

Honing in on Vegeta's energy, which was descending from the Super Saiyan transformation, he closed his eyes, and used the Instant Transmission technique to appear right near where Vegeta and Bulma were. The moment that he was materializing in the air, he heard Vegeta whisper four gentle words in his wife's ear.

"I love you, Bulma."

A smile flashed across her features, before she closed her eyes.

And Goku watched as Vegeta snapped Bulma's neck.

Instantly, a wave of fury swept over the younger Saiyan, causing Vegeta to whip his gaze towards the third-class dog who had suddenly appeared in the room. His own eyes seemed lifeless, dead, hopeless, and there was an odd spark within them. This glint was not good at all, but Goku was barely able to register that, only able to register his growing rage, his increasing power with his insurmountable outrage.

"Vegeta!" he hissed out, clenching his fists, his hair flickering blonde and eyes flashing teal for a moment as he struggled to keep his Super Saiyan form under control.. "Why would you _do_ that!? How could you _kill_ your own _wife_!?"

However, the prince's eyes glinted dangerously once more—Goku realized that it was the look that he had when he first arrived on Earth. The spark of insanity, of being pushed past the point of no return.

"This is _your_ damn fault, you third-class low-life," Vegeta growled out through his clenched teeth, struggling to keep his voice under control, pointing an accusing finger at his rival. Bulma's dead body was still in his lap, and his other hand still remained gently on her now lifeless features. His face was contorted in a snarl, while Goku backed up from the insinuation that _he_ had been the one to kill his closest friend.

"If _you_ had noticed Yamcha, he _wouldn't_ have _attacked_ Bulma and _wouldn't_ have _killed_ her," Vegeta snarled hatefully, beginning to power up on his own, past his breaking point. Goku realized with a pang that Vegeta was losing it completely.

"Don't you _dare_ blame _ME_, you _BASTARD_," Vegeta spat out venomously, growling like an animal, seeming more like an animal than a human at the moment. "This is _ALL_ YOU! ALL FUCKING _YOU_!"

The volume of his voice increased with each work that he'd said. Goku backed up, once again seeing that dangerous glint of insanity within Vegeta's onyx eyes as he suddenly let out a growl of fury. He had begun to lightly stand up, but now, he knelt down once more, next to the dead body of his wife. He looked down at her, his eyes unreadable at the moment, his hand fisted in Bulma's blue hair once more. His eyes were suddenly lifeless, empty, and the Saiyan prince bowed his head slightly. He brought Bulma's dead body up the slightest bit, so that her head rested against his chest. His forehead was now touching hers.

Goku watched the scene, watching how quickly Vegeta's emotions had switched. And then, he watched in shock as the elder man did something that he had only done once in his life before.

The proud Saiyan prince began to shed tears over his dead wife, mourning for her silently. He didn't make noise, his shoulders didn't shudder—however, tears made their way down his cheeks, leaking out from the corners of his eyes. He gently held his woman's lifeless body, their foreheads still touching, hating that he had to be the one to end her life, that he was the one who had done this deed…

"Kakarot," he said hoarsely, his voice barely even heard, and yet laced completely with venom. "Leave. Leave, now, or I will kill you without a second thought." He didn't make eye-contact with the other warrior, still mourning over his mate, holding her lifeless body close to him, repeating how sorry he was for doing this action in his head, over and over and over, wishing that he'd told her sorry before…

Goku realized that this was a private moment. Not wanting to break Vegeta even more, he quietly left the room, bowing his head, struggling against his own tears at the loss of his lifelong friend. To do something, he decided that he would try and go find Dr. Briefs, wanting to get away from the scene as quickly as he could.

After Goku left, Vegeta didn't move, continuing to shed tears over his woman. The prince's tears were silent, and yet conveyed all the grief and agony in the world, now even able to say anything in his anguish.

"Bulma, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice surprisingly steady, even though he was still lightly shedding tears over her. His grief and shock was too much for it to affect his voice. "I will bring you back, somehow. I'll go to Namek and collect those damn Dragon Balls myself. I swear it, on my life, you will come back."

It was then that his keen ears picked up the sound of movement in the room. He lightly turned his head, his eyes seeming sightless, as he saw the other doctors slowly getting up from their prone positions, beginning to move towards both of them. Vegeta didn't care at the moment, continuing to hold onto his wife's body as tightly as he could, not paying attention to anything outside of his grief. Even now, he was barely even conscious of the tears still slowly, silently leaking out of his eyes, only able to register the complete, unrelenting grief, and his hatred towards himself.

However, when one of the monsters crawled over to Bulma and bit her leg, something within Vegeta suddenly snapped. Something animalistic, something beyond even that of a Super Saiyan, as he watched with almost dead eyes as the zombie chewed on his wife's leg.

The Saiyan prince let out a scream of rage, as something deep within him shattered. Instantly, he placed his woman's body on the floor, almost gently, before flying towards the zombie in a fury. Everything was in surprising clarity as he suddenly shot out his hand, gripping the monster's head. He squeezed with his fingers as tightly as he could—in barely a second, the skill was crushed. The head of the monster was completely shattered—oozing bits of grey brain and white skull fell onto Vegeta's white gloves, dirtying them. He didn't care, continuing to squeeze until the brain became nothing but unidentified mush in his hands, until the fragments of skull were all over the place, until you could barely tell that there had been a human head on top of a body previously as he ruthlessly crushed it with fingers as strong as steel.

Another one began to walk towards the dead body of Bulma, its hands outstretched, lightly moaning. Vegeta's head whipped around. He hadn't even realized that he had transformed into a Super Saiyan before, his hair now brilliantly golden and his turquoise eyes crazed. He grabbed the other undead human being, plowing his fist into the monster's middle so hard that it went straight through the monster, leaving a huge, gaping hole. He didn't care—he suddenly jerked his hand up, causing his hand to go completely through the zombie from the stomach up. The monster's head was severed in half, its grey internal organs beginning to spill on the floor. He then threw the monster back, against the wall, creating a large dent, while the Saiyan prince silently screamed.

Goku, having heard the commotion, ran into the room, and saw what was happening. He ran over to his friend, and yelled, "Vegeta, calm down!" He tried to calm the prince down, but it was to no use. Vegeta acted as if he wasn't even there, grabbing two more zombies with his strong hands, and banging their heads against each other, causing their skulls to break upon their impact.

"Vegeta," Goku said quietly, trying to somehow calm the rage of Vegeta, while the prince's crazed teal orbs whipped towards him. As he turned, he promptly ripped the spine out of another zombie, causing the monster to scream like a banshee, while he simply glared at his rival. Goku took in a sharp breath—Vegeta hadn't been this brutal since Namek.

"I…I'm sorry that Bulma was killed," the younger Saiyan continued, "but you'll destroy the city if you don't calm down."

This had the opposite effect—Vegeta let out an animalistic roar. "DAMN IT, KAKAROT!" he screamed, his power exploding about him in a great, golden flash. His solid turquoise iris and pupils seemed to disappear for a moment, his eyes being simply deathly white, before they returned. "_YOU_ DID THIS!" he continued to shout, while his power continued to skyrocket, nearly throwing Goku back. "NOW, _YOU_ DIE!"

Goku realized that this was serious, and tried to power up quickly to match Vegeta. However, he didn't do so fast enough, and was thrown through the building from the aftershock of Vegeta's power, into a worker area which was filled with hundreds of the infected humans. He recovered quickly, shaking his head, and making sure that he stood away from the monsters, while they turned towards him, moaning.

Vegeta flew into the room, ignoring the zombies that began to screech as they tried to grab at him. Goku, wide-eyed, jumped out of the window, trying to save the building, but the Saiyan prince didn't care, and simply blasted right through the concrete wall. It gave the monsters a way out, and they triumphantly screamed some more as they began to lightly flood out of the room, in a heaving mass.

Goku shot up in the air, promptly turning Super Saiyan as well as his golden aura pulsed around him, his hair rising and turning golden as his eyes instantly transformed to teal as well. He surveyed the situation—the crazed elder Saiyan was floating in front of him, his eyes glinting with hatred and insanity, while the zombies swelled under them in a mass. He looked up into the sky—it had grown dark with storm clouds, and he could hear the distant rumble of thunder, could see the faint flash of lightning in the distance.

"Vegeta, we can wish her back," Goku began, his voice slowly rising over the noise that was beginning to come around them. The thunder suddenly began to boom loudly, and the rain came suddenly, beginning to pelt him fiercely, while fierce gusts of wind nearly tossed his words away. "Just calm down!"

"You _just_ don't get it, do you, Kakarot!?" Vegeta hissed out over the turbulence, fists clenching at his sides in his fury. His own energy sparked around him, electricity crackling around his fists and his Super Saiyan form, his own teal eyes completely lost in utter insanity, his canines flashing dangerously. He was more animal than man, lost within his grief. "YOU KILLED HER, YOU FOOL! IT WAS _YOU_! IT'S _YOUR_ FAULT! _ALL_ YOUR FUCKING FAULT!"

His voice rose with each word he said, his power escalating constantly, having passed the point of no return, teetering off the ledge of sanity and plunging into the suddenly welcoming, dark abyss that was insanity. "IF _YOU_ WEREN'T SUCH A MOTHERFUCKING _IDIOT_," he continued to roar, "SHE WOULDN'T BE DEAD NOW! IF _YOU_ WEREN'T SUCH A PATHETIC SCREW-UP, YOU WASTE OF SPACE, SHE WOULDN'T BE _GONE_!"

The Saiyan prince's words disappeared into a crazed scream, as he lunged for Goku, and, quick as lightning, punched the younger Saiyan into the sky. Goku didn't have enough time to react—while Vegeta had been consistently powering up with his rage, Goku hadn't raised his own power consistently. The only thing he could do at the moment was fly away from the furious, insane prince, flying as quickly as he could through the pelting rain—he could feel that Vegeta was hot on his trail. The prince's power was being oddly sporadic, spiking at times, but then, other times, seeming to disappear from his anger.

Goku looked around, trying to see what else was happening, but was unable to truly see anything with the massive amount of rain falling from the clouds, and the dark thunderclouds themselves. Lighting flashed, and he could have sworn that he saw a familiar flame-haired shape, but it disappeared a moment after, causing him to stop. He could've sworn he'd sensed Vegeta behind him, but, then, why had he been in front of him?

Suddenly, he heard crazed laughter. He turned around just in time to have an elbow hit him square in the kidneys, causing Goku to gasp instantly, falling as he coughed up blood, the red liquid coming out from his mouth and falling to the ground, along with his body, as he tried to regain air. He quickly stopped himself from falling, and tried to hide in the darkness from Vegeta, needing to be far away enough from the crazed Saiyan to power himself up.

He finally began to attain more energy, raising his power as fast as if could go—at that moment, though, lightning illuminated the sky, and the deadly bolt hit him. It would have killed any human, but, because of his Saiyan genetic makeup, it simply stunned him, and caused him to black out for a moment as he got knocked down from the air. However, he quickly regained his bearings, and the other Saiyan was close enough so that he could manage to make out the golden hair of the prince, which gave him warning. Quickly, Goku shot an energy ball underneath him, trying to propel himself upwards.

He didn't get enough time—Vegeta was heading towards him too fast. Right as Goku began to rise into the air, Vegeta suddenly crashed into him. It was obvious that the prince hadn't expected this, either, and the two Saiyans crashed through the sky, landing on the ground with a large impact, creating a crater around them with the force of their hitting the ground.

The two men quickly managed to get up once again, with Vegeta doing so first, letting out animalistic snarls, not even speaking any more. As he darted his glinting teal eyes around, he realized that hundreds of zombies were surrounding him and his rival—

His rival. With a low growl, he whipped around, where Goku was standing up as well, holding his head. He gestured towards Vegeta, and then to the zombies, who had begun to swarm around West City from their escape in Capsule Corp.

"Vegeta, look at what you're doing," the younger Saiyan told the prince, still having to yell through the rain. The only response that he got was another dangerous, threatening growl, while Goku sighed, trying to figure out a way to calm the man down. "What will Bulma think of this when she comes back?"

This statement, however, had the opposite effect.

At the mention of his mate's name, Vegeta's eyes widened for a millisecond, an emotion flashing across his paler features. Then, he suddenly screamed wordlessly, before he screamed her name once more, screaming it at the top of his lungs, as he instantly turned around, flying back into Capsule Corporation once more. He smashed into many, many of the walking dead, but didn't care, rushing into the room that he had last been with his dead wife, going to the room that contained her body.

The sight that greeted him wasn't a pretty one.

He saw that the zombies had completely taken over the room, and heard a horrible, terrible, munching sound. He looked, and saw that body parts were in some of the zombie's grips—a hand here, a foot there. He then managed to catch sigh of Bulma's body, through the zombies, as they parted lightly and enjoyed their feast. She lacked most of her extremities, such as her hands and feet, and arms and legs, and one could barely tell that it was a human. The familiar silky blue hair that crowned the head, however, was there. They were _eating_ her.

The prince suddenly lost all the feeling in his body, a numb wave suddenly hitting him. He dropped to his knees lifelessly, staring at the scene before him, unable to comprehend it.

Goku had followed him, and flew into the room second later. He first looked at Vegeta, his nose wrinkling at the smell of the blood, and noticed the odd position that the prince was in. His teal eyes were now dull and lifeless, but still held that fierce glitter of insanity in them. Goku then turned, and was able to survey the scene, and instantly felt the urge to throw up as he saw that the monsters were eating his lifelong friend's body. It was so wrong. Bulma deserved to be properly buried, not to be torn to ribbons by these monsters and taken away from existence.

"Kakarot. Come here." His voice was low, but Goku turned towards the prince, who was still watching the zombies devour his wife's body. It was almost as if he wasn't seeing it as well, however, as if he was a blind man simply turning towards a sound. Goku, of course, complied, and figured out what was going to happen to late. Vegeta's fist shot our and punched him into a wall, causing Goku to fly back into it and get stuck within it.

Hearing a sound, the zombies ceased their feast, and slowly turned their dead eyes at the prospect of an even more appetizing meal. They caught sight of the two men, and began to walk closer, some of them crooning lightly in their victory of finding an even more satisfying meal.

"Get out of here, Kakarot," Vegeta said. His voice was oddly dead, emotionless, as he continued to watch some of the monsters remain near his wife's body, watching with hatred and disbelief within his teal eyes. He unconsciously reverted back to his base form, so that his hair and eyes were now both black, as he stared at the monsters tear her beautiful body apart.

Goku, upon seeing that his friend had gotten out of the Super Saiyan state, descended from the legendary state as well. He ripped himself out of the wall, walking closer to Vegeta, not listening to what the prince had said.

"_Leave,"_ Vegeta hissed out, his voice dangerous and lethal. "You've done _enough_ damage here. I will deal with this by myself."

"But, Vegeta…look at them," Goku said quietly. "They're…they're _eating_ each other." It was true—some of the zombies _were_ eating their own kind, since the human's flesh was rapidly diminishing. Some of the zombies were still walking towards the two Saiyan males, but something was stopping them. Goku didn't pay it any mind. "They also don't have energy, which is freaky." He placed a hand on Vegeta's shoulder—the prince was still kneeling. "We need to get out of here, Vegeta."

"You just don't _understand_, Kakarot," the prince said, his voice monotone, having lost the conviction to live. "I…I can't be a father. Not without her. You have to promise me that you'll take care of Trunks for me—make sure that Mirai does so, as well—and leave me be." Goku opened his mouth, but the prince turned his glinting onyx eyes on him, shutting him up. "If you say _one_ more thing, I will kill you where you stand."

Goku's own dark eyes steeled with resolve, and he began to walk towards his friend. Before he could do anything, however, Vegeta punched the younger man in his pressure point, causing Goku's eyes to widen, before he collapsed on the floor in a heap, knocked out.

A certain Namekian had seen this whole exchange take place, after feeling odd spikes of power and disappearances of them as well in Capsule Corporation. He hadn't been sure what would happen if he made his presence known before—he'd seen how unstable Vegeta was, but now, it seemed that he was the slightest bit less insane than before. He walked up to the unconscious man and the prince, his own eyes cautious.

"Vegeta, what are you planning on doing?" Piccolo asked, kneeling down next to Goku to make sure that the Earth-raised Saiyan was all right. Goku was still breathing, his eyes shut in merely unconsciousness.

Vegeta bared his teeth at him, canines glinting as lightning suddenly flashed from outside once more, illuminating him even more, making him seem ghost-like. "None of your damned business, Namekian," he growled out lowly. "Now, take Kakarot and get out of here. I'll be out in a minute." With that, he turned around, not facing either his rival or the green-skinned alien.

Piccolo decided not to question the prince, and easily picked up Goku's unconscious form. He threw his comrade over his shoulder, securely holding him by the legs, before he jumped out of the window and began to blast towards the Lookout. Vegeta watched them leave out of the corner of his eye, making sure that they truly left.

As such, he wasn't truly focused when the zombies suddenly lunged towards him.

He let out a roar as he suddenly felt pain searing through his forearm, feeling something come in contact with his skin. Instinctively, he flung the zombie that had attached itself onto his arm away from him, throwing it into one of the walls. He then collapsed in pain, gripping his arm fiercely, and his eyes widened when he realized something.

The zombie had managed to bite one of his tiny cuts, from his previous spar with Kakarot earlier. Its teeth had made contact right in the wound.

He realized what it meant, and snapped once more; he stood up instantly, planning on killing as many of these monsters as he could before he, too, would die and join their ranks. He shot into the air, but, at the moment, was still disoriented with grief, causing him to not be as fast as he normally would.

The zombies didn't mind, and grabbed him, all of them screeching, hurting his sensitive ears, while they dragged him down. He shouted at them, not words, but simply sounds of frustration and hatred, as he tried to escape from their grip. However, another one bit him, causing pain to sear once more through his system as he screamed. He felt more pricks on his body, from their biting him.

He fought back. He fought back with everything he had, punching and kicking the zombies away. But there was no end to them. When he felled three, five took their place. They had managed to get numerous bites, causing blood to continuously bleed from the wounds, which hadn't healed. From the blood loss, he began to lose consciousness.

Vegeta began to fall, his head hitting the ground. His onyx eyes looked up, seeing the decapitated body of his beautiful, dead wife, seeing her blue hair and her closed eyes, the blood that coated her being…

It was the last sight he saw before he went into the inviting blackness.

* * *

Meanwhile, a certain lavender-haired young man was flying through the air, heading back to his home as quickly as he could. He had known something was weird when his little brother had told him that their father wanted him to bring the little boy to Goten's house without warning; his unsettling feeling was confirmed when he felt some drastic power level changes, his senses more attuned than the younger boys.

Trunks hadn't sensed anything wrong, but Mirai got the uneasy feeling that something wasn't right in the least. He'd slowed down a bit on their way to Goten's house—he had allowed Trunks to ride on his shoulders as he flew them there. This cause the little boy to ask his older counterpart what was wrong. Mirai shook his head, saying that nothing was wrong, not wanting to worry the younger boy. Then, he'd told Trunks to go to Goten's house by himself, while he went back home to go get something, and to make sure that their father hadn't destroyed the place with his training. Because of the humor added, Trunks had believed Mirai, and had laughed, while he continued his journey to his best friend's house.

Once he was out of sight, Mirai had blasted off, flying at a frantic pace back to his home. When he caught sight of Piccolo, carrying an unconscious Goku over his shoulder, and when he was unable to feel his mother anymore, he knew something was wrong, and had a hunch that the Namekian knew what was going on.

"Piccolo!" the teenaged prince yelled, blasting towards them. Piccolo did not seem all that pleased that Mirai had seen them, cursing himself for not thinking that such a think could possibly happen, wishing that he'd hidden his power so that he wouldn't be able to be tracked. When he saw how Mirai's blue eyes widened with fear, his gaze fixating in the direction of his home, he knew that things wouldn't end well.

"What, kid?" Piccolo replied, uncomfortable at the situation that he now found himself in.

The young man began to breathe slightly heavily at what he had begun to think, sweating lightly, his sky-blue eyes worried. "Where are my parents?" he demanded to know, wanting to quash the sickening feeling in his gut that told him that something was wrong. "And why the hell is Goku unconscious?" He had begun to fear for the worst, hoping silently that it wasn't true.

Just then, Goku's eyes suddenly snapped open as he returned to the world of consciousness, screaming, "VEGETA, _NO_!" at the top of his lungs. Piccolo abruptly let go of him, and Goku began to hover, unconsciously. He then realized that he wasn't near Vegeta at the moment, and that he was next to Mirai and Piccolo, somehow, in the sky. How…?

"Goku," Mirai said, his voice betraying his worry, his fear, the fear that he didn't want to believe, afraid of what he would get in reply to the question he was going to ask. The way he said the name made Goku forget about his wonderings about how he had gotten there, as he gave the prince his full, undivided attention. "Where are my parents?"

Goku sighed, shaking his head, knowing that Mirai wouldn't like what he had to say. Quietly, he began to explain what had happened, keeping it short and blunt. He and Vegeta had been sparring. Dr. Briefs' energy disappeared. Yamcha was walking around like it was nothing. He'd gone to investigate the blood, but then had heard Bulma scream. Vegeta had gotten to her. When nothing better happened, he appeared right in time to see Vegeta snap Bulma's neck, to save her from becoming a zombie. That Vegeta had gone insane. That the zombies had attacked them, that Vegeta had knocked him out.

"Mirai, I…I'm so sorry," he finished, his dark eyes full of remorse.

Mirai, however, let out a low growl, rage building up within him, unconsciously beginning the Super Saiyan transformation as his aura pulsed golden. "No," he hissed out, refusing to believe it. As he spoke, his voice gained more conviction. "_No._ My dad is _not_ dead. In fact, I'm going _right_ now to get him!" With that, he began to blast off to West City, where his home was, intent on saving his father.

He was stopped when Goku's arm suddenly shot out, the man's hand grabbing onto his bicep. Mirai let out low, animalistic growls, struggling against the stronger hold of the full-blooded Saiyan, flashing his canines once more as he snarled, his blue eyes ignited with fire, and slightly red and glassy.

"Wait, Mirai," Goku said, in an attempt to calm the boy down. This only increased the struggles, so Goku had to grab his other arm as well, pinning Mirai's arms to his sides. The teenager let out a roar, struggling to break free of the inescapable cage that he was now trapped in.

"Mirai, you have to listen to me," Goku spoke lowly, making sure that his words were making it through Mirai's head. "His ki is dropping too fast to save it. Those things aren't human; we need to get the others, and form a plan."

Mirai refused to believe what he was told, and instantly checked for his father's energy once more. His heart sunk, and he realized that, yes, his father would be gone in a minute if it continued to drop at this pace. A sense of hopelessness suddenly flooded through him, and it suddenly took all of his energy to remain hovering within the air, fighting back the tears that were beginning to form within his burning eyes, from losing both of his parents in one day. He hung his head, his shoulders beginning to shudder, his breathing becoming ragged.

A hand fell on his shoulder—Mirai jerked it off, suddenly, letting out a low growl as he glared at Goku through the tears that he forced back, the tears which he refused to allow to fall from his eyes.

"Mirai, Vegeta's ki is dropping, _but_,"—this interjection caused Mirai to look at Goku as the man spoke—"if I use Instant Transmission, I might be able to save him." Mirai's blue eyes—the same blue hue as Bulma's—lit up suddenly with hope. "Go get a Senzu bean; I'll go get Vegeta."

Mirai nodded, instantly blasting off towards the closest place that he could think of that would have Senzu beans. The Lookout was conveniently very close, so he decided that he'd go ask Korin. He blasted off, while Goku placed two fingers on his forehead, and flickered away from sight. Piccolo, watching this, simply shook his head, and decided that he might as well follow Mirai to make sure that the boy wouldn't lose it.

Meanwhile, Goku had transported himself to the prince's quickly fading energy. The moment that he arrived he was hit once again with the stench of blood, of blood and rotting corpses. He brought a hand to his nose instinctively, grimacing in disgust once more, before he managed to catch sight of his friend. The older Saiyan was lying on the floor, bleeding profusely, surrounded by many dead bodies which were brutally decapitated.

"Oh, no," Goku whispered, before dashing up to Vegeta's side. "Vegeta, please, don't be dead. Please, Vegeta, don't be dead, you can't be dead! Not you, too!" He placed a hand on the back of the Saiyan. Yes, he could still feel his energy, but did that mean anything? Was he hallucinating about feeling his friend's energy.

The prince suddenly let out a shuddering breath from under his palm, causing Goku to sigh in relief. The prince opened his black eyes, and managed a glare up at his rival. He opened his mouth to say something, but was unable to say what he wanted at the moment as he suddenly began to hack up a mixture of blood and phlegm. Once he managed to get rid of that stuff in his throat, he began to speak.

"Kakarot, kill me," he rasped out, blood still trickling from his mouth, causing Goku's jaw to drop. "It's…it's the only way. I'm a dead man…but at least…this way I can…be brought back." He spoke through mouthfuls of the vital crimson liquid that should have stood within his body, hacking it up with frightening force, almost as if he was trying to cough up his very own organs.

"Vegeta…I can't," Goku replied firmly, shaking his head. "There _has_ to be a way to save you. Mirai's on his way here with a Senzu bean right now, we can go meet him halfway." With that, he tried to pick Vegeta up, ready to sling him over his shoulder, but Vegeta hissed in reply, trying to shove himself away from the younger Saiyan.

"I don't have much time _left_ on this stinking mudball, Kakarot," he growled out, blood still staining his teeth, his body beginning to shiver. "I am _dying_. Kill me _NOW_!" He continued to cough up more blood and phlegm, while his rival picked him up in his arms, while he growled at the third-class through clenched teeth. His body began to shake uncontrollably, and he forced himself not to scream from the agony that was ripping through his being.

Goku froze as he began to truly ponder it, while Vegeta continued to spasm in his arms. No…he _couldn't_ take the life of one of his best friends. But…if what Vegeta had said was true…then, killing him would be ensuring that the prince would be able to be brought back with the Dragon Balls.

Right?

Before he could make a decision, however, Vegeta suddenly let out an inhumane scream of agony, of pain, as the pure torture of the venom within his system caused him to see white for a few moments, causing the blinding agony to shoot through his being. And then, he suddenly went limp.

Goku simply stared in shock at his friend, faintly realizing that Vegeta's ki was now nonexistent. The younger Saiyan couldn't stop the shininess of tears from beginning to form in his eyes, as he looked at his friend, unable to believe that the prince was somehow…somehow…no. it couldn't be true. One of his closest friends…had _died_ in his arms, while he had done nothing about it?

No. No, he refused to believe it…but the answer was staring him blatantly in the face, as he placed the body of Vegeta down on the ground, still completely stunned, unable to understand the concept.

And then it hit him.

"Vegeta…" Goku shook his head, trailing off, before he suddenly realized what had happened. _"NO!"_ he screamed in defiance, as he pounded the ground in a fierce rage. He was unable to register anything than his pure anguish at the moment, as allowing his friend to die, when he'd promised that he would keep him all right…as such, he didn't notice that a new group of zombies began to flood into the room. And he didn't notice that Vegeta began to move lightly, his body twitching the slightest bit.

Goku suddenly turned, feeling a presence behind him, and saw that they were walking towards Vegeta's body. The younger Saiyan, in a flash of rage, let out a roar as he rushed in front of them. Quickly, he launched a fast, powerful Kamehameha wave at them, the blue light taking over the room for a moment. This energy caused most of the zombies to be obliterated as they let out inhumane screams of agony.

Furious, Goku went up to the ones that he hadn't obliterated with the blast, and quickly destroyed them, as well, with another release of his power. Once they were all incinerated, he managed to calm himself down slightly, before he began to walk to his friend's body.

It was then that he realized that Vegeta wasn't there anymore.

This caused the Earth-raised Saiyan to look around, confused, his rage giving way to confusion. "Vegeta?" he said aloud in puzzlement, looking for his friend. He walked out of the room, curious.

He didn't know that Vegeta was floating behind him. The prince had his arms crossed against his chest, as he silently stood behind the younger Saiyan, his eyes holding that dead, and yet intense glint. While Goku looked towards the sky, waiting for Mirai to appear, Vegeta quickly made himself scarce, hiding in the shadows so that he wouldn't be seen by any prying eyes.

The lavender-haired young man landed on the ground, holding the green bean in his hand, his blue eyes looking around expectantly for his father. When he only saw Goku in front of him, though, a slightly grave look on his face, Mirai began to think for the worst.

"Where's my dad?" he asked him, afraid of the answer. It greatly unnerved the teenager when Goku just looked at the ground, not knowing how to reply. In a flash of rage and worry, he reached out and fiercely shoved Goku to the ground, his blue eyes glinting dangerously. Goku, having not been expecting this, looked up at Mirai with surprise and shock.

_"Where is he?"_ Mirai screamed, menacingly baring his teeth in a snarl at the elder Saiyan, his muscles coiled like an animal ready to spring. He hissed at Goku, while the man shook his head.

"I…I don't know, Mirai," he said quietly, causing Mirai to growl once more. "He…he died…and these things attacked me. The body was missing when I got back." He saw the way that Mirai reacted, visibly backing up, startled, his blue eyes widened with pure shock, unable to believe it, shaking his head. He couldn't believe that his father was dead. Seeing his reaction, Goku couldn't help but shake his head in pity.

"I'm so, so sorry, Mirai," he said quietly, getting up off of the ground. He tried to place a hand on Mirai's shoulder in an attempt to pull him into a hug, but the lavender-haired prince simply let out a snarl, quickly jerking his hand off of his shoulder, backing away. His blue eyes were filling with tears, but he refused to let them fall as he bared his teeth at Goku. The man bit his lip, wishing that there was something he could do to help—he'd tried to offer comfort, but it was obvious that Mirai was past his breaking point.

He couldn't ponder that thought any more, though, because suddenly, all of the zombies swarmed into the area, getting ready to attack.

And Vegeta was with them.

Upon seeing his father, Mirai's face visibly brightened with relief. _"Dad!"_ he exclaimed in pure joy, seeing his father moving, alive. But…why couldn't he feel his father's energy? The eldest prince was standing right in front of him, but…Mirai couldn't feel a thing. Suddenly, he began to have an uneasy feeling about the situation.

Goku turned around, just in time to see the monsters heading towards them. He knew what he had to do, and knew that Mirai wouldn't like it one bit.

"_Run_, Mirai!" Goku yelled instantly, turning around to face the young man for a moment, not looking at the mass of bodies heading towards them. "Just get _out_ of here!"

It was all the time that Vegeta needed to pounce upon Goku, and sink his white teeth into the younger man's shoulder blade.

Goku screamed in agony, while Mirai's eyes widened in horror with what he was seeing. As he watched Goku's body convulse in anguish, Mirai quickly snapped out of it, and realized that he'd be next if he didn't move. Seeing his father, there, however, made it painful for him to leave.

But his father _wasn't_ his father anymore. No, he was different now. No energy, no life within the onyx eyes…it wasn't his father.

Mirai ran away from the zombies, not wanting to draw any attention to himself by flying away from them and creating a bit of noise. He ran as fast as he could away from the monsters, shoving his way through the throng of them that had suddenly surrounded him.

It seemed not much longer until he saw a faint light in the distance. On instinct, he headed towards the light, blocking what he had seen from his mind, not wanting to think about it.

Eventually, he was only a few paces away from the source of the light. The darkness from the freak thunderstorm—it had miraculously stopped raining, but the sky was still dark with rainclouds—caused him to only see the light from ahead. It seemed to be emanating from a funny-looking building, surrounded by tents. There was a section where there were helicopters, and tanks. It looked like…a military base? He'd reached a military base?

He wasn't sure, nor did he care. It was at that moment that he suddenly stopped, everything that had happened suddenly flooding back into his memory, forcing him to remember what had happened, as he let his guard down, only able to live in the memories. Then, he simply stared, remembering what he just saw, as he gazed at the light, dazed. It was still hard for him to believe—that both of his parents were gone. And he hadn't even been given adequate time to grieve for them. Was Trunks all right? Did he make it to Goten's house?

Before he could begin to worry about his younger self, his mind suddenly decided to throw everything that he'd seen back into his face, so he was once again frozen as he was forced to relive the past events.

* * *

The government had called all able soldiers to meet in the bases closest to the city that they resided in. This meant that Ryan and Jennifer both had to report to the base closest to Satan City, on active duty now that there was a credible threat. Raiyne had refused to be left behind—she'd already lost her father, and she didn't want to lose another parent while she stood at home. She could help, she pointed out—she could shoot. She was allowed to come along, so now, she was with her mother and her father's best friend, in the military base.

Mr. Satan and Videl had stopped by the military base, as well, curious as to what was happening. Videl didn't know what to make of Ryan's story, but she wanted to see these things for herself, as did her own father. As such, they were all currently in one of the buildings in the military base, and Jennifer was talking lowly to her daughter.

"Raiyne, listen," Jennifer said gently, placing her hands on the young woman's shoulders. She felt Raiyne shuddering slightly, with fear—she'd never been asked to do what she was now being requested of. "I know it may seem hard, but these things aren't alive."

In all honesty, Raiyne was terrified at the moment. She'd never killed anyone before, and was unsure about how she'd feel about taking lives. Hearing her mother speak about how they weren't alive, however, made her the slightest bit consolidated. The hand that held the pistol that she was given was shaking slightly, however, as Jennifer continued to speak.

"They need to be exterminated, so that more people don't get infected, all right?" Jennifer explained softly, causing Raiyne to nod shakily. "All right." She turned towards the window, where a figure stood, motionless, outlined by the light, staring at them. She couldn't see it clearly, but it must have been a zombie.

"You see that one staring at the light?" Raiyne nodded once more. "All right, sweetheart—I want you to shoot it. It needs to be a headshot, or else it won't die," the blonde woman explained. She hated asking this of her daughter, but she knew that she needed to prepare Raiyne for the weeks ahead.

The younger woman nodded, before bringing her gun up, with a slightly trembling hand, as she opened the window. She took aim, steeling herself against what she was going to do, her finger resting on the trigger. She aimed right between the figure's eyes, and her index finger trembled on the trigger. Why did the figure look slightly…familiar?

The moment before she pulled the trigger, she realized that the figure was alive. She saw the rising and falling of shoulders, saw the way that the person blinked and moved and breathed, and was somehow _alive_. She'd heard of the walking dead—they didn't breathe, and could remain statues. She managed to see the shadow of a blink, saw the rising and falling of shoulders as they took in breaths, _living_.

It was too late to stop herself from pulling the trigger—jerkily, she aimed to the left as quickly as she could, praying that she hadn't truly hit the person. The bullet grazed the side of his head, right at his temple, causing him to get knocked out from being hit at such a vulnerable, painful spot suddenly. He collapsed onto the ground, and Raiyne let out a sigh of relief when she realized that she hadn't killed him.

"Mom, that man is _alive_," Raiyne said, turning towards her mother for a moment. "He didn't look like it before, but he is. We need to get him, Mom!" With that, she ran towards the door without a second thought.

Hearing this, most of the soldiers suddenly tried to make themselves seem occupied, suddenly growing an interest in their feet or their weapons, or doing something with their fingers. Jennifer's brown eyes were still wide with shock, as she realized that she'd nearly made her baby kill a human being. Raiyne looked around at the soldiers, but the great majority of them obviously did _not_ want to go out there, looking anywhere but her.

Upon seeing this, Videl rolled her eyes in aggravation, and walked over to Raiyne, the silent agreement that she would come, too. Raiyne smiled at her friend, and the crime-fighter returned it lightly, while Raiyne opened the door. She turned around, facing Ryan, and her mother, who had managed to recover.

"Cover us!" Raiyne called to her mother and Ryan, as she and Videl ran over to the body. Raiyne went up first, wanting to be the one to make sure that he was actually alive, and that she hadn't killed him by accident. As she got closer, she began to recognize some things about him, realizing who it was. When she saw the tanned features, the muscular frame, the lavender hair, she could barely restrain her gasp as she realized who it was.

"Oh my god, Mirai," Raiyne whispered, kneeling down next to the teenaged boy who she suddenly recognized. She couldn't believe that she'd nearly killed one of her own friends! She reached out a hand to check his pulse—thankfully, it was still there. Albeit weak and slightly erratic, for some reason, but still there, causing her to sigh in pure relief.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, drawing her hand away from his neck, where she'd checked his pulse. She noticed that his features weren't all that peaceful—had something happened to him previous to her nearly shooting him down?

"Raiyne, we need to get him inside," Videl said, when Raiyne didn't make a move for a little while, still getting over the shock that she'd nearly killed him. Hearing the blue-eyed girl, Raiyne's own eyes flickered towards Videl, and she managed a nod. She placed her hands under Mirai's arms, while Videl held him up by the knees, and the two young women began to carry him inside, where Ryan was holding the door open for them.

Right as they went inside, while they cast a final glance outside, the girls and Ryan saw a chilling sight.

In the distance, hovering in the air, two figures—one whose hair seemed to be a haphazard maze of spikes, the other seeming to be in the stunning shock of a flame—were watching them.

* * *

Next time on The Walking Z: A Survivor's Story: How did everyone get to West city? What did Vegeta ask Gohan a few weeks ago? And how are the Saiyan zombies able to fly? Find out all these and more next time.

**Thanks for reading, everyone! And please review! :D**


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